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barzzal · 2 months

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call me crosby → interlude p.2

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: angst, language, swearing, mentions of blood genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 9.3k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: the interlude is a two-part chapter dedicated for what happened between sidney and reader in the past and why everything had to happen ;) pls pls tread lightly as these chapters contain sensitive themes. you may stop reading at any time should it make you feel uncomfortable. this is just a reminder that you are still responsible for what you consume. all that aside, happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

Your mind wanders to the not so distant past while you do your night time routine. You blankly stare at yourself absent-mindedly as you lather lotion on your hands and arms.

It’s crazy how madly and deeply in love you and Sidney were a week ago.

You can’t help but reminisce about the reckless night you and Sidney shared. The very night that you think might have led to such a life-altering event.

“Babe?” you hear Sidney call for you from the bathroom.

You have just gotten home from an annual fundraising ball that the Pittsburgh Penguins hold to support the foundations it is in partnership with. As the captain, and arguably the face of the franchise, Sidney’s hectic night also meant having to always stand wearing your impractical heels and a smile that has to be genuine enough– but not so much as to come off pretentious and inauthentic.

While all of the actions you’ve shown were true, it was evident that the pressure to remain perfect was taxing. To say that you were tired would even be an understatement.

You feel a hint of hunger but even that won’t stand against your need for a good night’s sleep.

As you lazily take off your earrings from one ear to another, you hum as a cue for Sidney to let you know whatever it was that’s going on in his mind.

“How does this thing work exactly?”

Baffled about the query, you lay your jewelry pieces flat onto the tray, and aim for the bathroom. You were still wearing the dress that elegantly clothed you for the entire night. It was a dress that Sidney had picked out himself. A dress that he knew would compliment and suit his girl just right.

The sliding doors of the bathroom were already half-open thereby causing you to see Sidney’s reflection in the mirror; his brows furrowed in total and utter bewilderment.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror once he hears your voice.

He turns to face your way and in his hand rests what seemed like a tiny, but regular, container of skin moisturizer you have been meaning for him to try.

“You watch me get ready for bed for years now, honey.” you idly tell him.

Sidney recognizes the exhaustion in your words, enjoying how your lazy voice register in his ears. He smiles.

“I don’t want to risk doing it wrong,” he explains. “I looked up this brand on the internet and I must say, it costs a lot for such a tiny bottle.”

You roll your eyes as you take the product from him. “It costs a lot because it also takes a lot to rescue,” you pause for effect as you playfully point at him, “that face.”

The two of you chuckle softly. Bare feet and about to get unready.

“Have you washed your face?” you ask him. Sidney nods.

“Alright. What else have you done?”

He shrugs, glancing over to his side of the sink. You’ve laid out a few products for him. Some of them he’d already gotten used to and some that he’s still figuring out. Sidney tells you about the few products he has initially applied.

“Could you please help me?” he asks in that voice he only uses with no one else but you.

You sigh dreadfully, eyes already closed with how tired you were. You lean your head on his shoulder, mumbling your words.

“But I’m so sleepy.” you let him know. After having a few seconds of rest, you add, “I haven’t even gotten my makeup off yet.”

Sidney knows you were beat. Even if he doesn’t tell you, he truly appreciates the great lengths you go for him. You don’t have to do it, but you did it all just the same for as long as it involved Sidney.

“I’ll take it off,” he volunteers.

“Pfft.” you snicker a foolish laugh. “I bet I can get a goal past you faster than you can learn how to take my makeup off. Properly.”

“Come on,” he says, putting his hands on your waist, giving it a good squeeze. “You got to at least let me try. I know you’re tired.”

You give him a smile but reply in a commanding tone, “Promise you’ll do it like I do?”

Sidney nods, ready to do after your bidding. “Religiously.”

Once you agree, you let him gently lift you up the counter next to the sink so as to let you be in a comfortable position. By the looks of it, the odds of you falling asleep were high and Sidney just couldn’t bear letting you stand on your feet after you’ve murdered them with those ridiculously high heels.

“Nooo,” Sidney coos. “Don’t fall asleep.”

With closed eyes, you softly chuckle. “Mkay.”

He glances over to the rack where you keep your nighttime essentials and asks, “What do I do first?”

Sidney willfully follows every instruction you give him as you patiently guide him throughout the process. His endless musings, in the hopes of keeping you awake, have evidently worked despite your exhausted state.

You didn’t want to drift off anyway. You were in total bliss feeling his touch; soft with care – delicate. Sidney’s fingers graze onto your skin ever so lightly as he applied every product. He did what he had promised you. He did your nighttime routine religiously.

His movements were put to a stop. You hear a soft clink of the product onto the tray; a sign that he was through.

Before you get to open your eyes, Sidney leans towards you. He then lightly pressed his lips against yours so as to give you a peck.

He plants a couple more before he eventually breaks away.

“Done.” He says enthusiastically, seeing you with a wide smile on your face.

“Yeah?” you briefly open your eyes, Sidney coming into full view. You see him half-naked with only his pajama bottoms on. His chest was rose-colored; perfectly in contrast with the shade of his stubble.

You take a quick glance at yourself in the mirror so you could get a peak of what he’s done. Huh. Pretty good.

You turn your head back and face him wearing a tight-lipped smile.

“Like it?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“You did fine.” you kid.

Sidney pretends to be appalled. “Fine? Just fine?”

“Uh-huh.” you tease. “Not bad for a first timer.”

“A’right.” he says with a smirk. “I know I could’ve done a lot worse than a ‘not bad’ so I’ll take it.”

“I’m just playing with you.” you tell him. “You did a good job.”

You open your arms, asking for a hug. Obligingly, he leans in and lets you wrap your arms around his nape. Your hands then found their way onto his face. Your fingers graze over rough stubble just as your eyes meet Sidney’s.

With your thumb landing on his lips, you gently pull Sidney’s face closer so you could lock him in a kiss. Gentle and sweet. Passionate despite being done swiftly. You feel each other’s warmth– with your mouth and your bodies pressed so close together.

Once the two of you break away, you say, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

His left hand removes some errant strands that lazily fashioned the side of your face. The other makes its way on the small of your back, pulling you even closer.

Before the two of you dive into another kiss, Sidney says, “Thank you for letting me.”

𖥸

When Sidney asked you to move in with him, the first thing he did was to start a major renovation of his home. You were not a fan of it because of the obvious reason; it was unnecessary. But alas, Sidney had his ways. He told you it was not just his home anymore. It was yours. “Ours.” was what he said.

It didn’t matter where the two of you were. Sidney had countless away games and series, and you had your fair share of business meetings on your end. But no matter where the two of you were, regardless of being away, your togetherness was kept by the home you have built with him. After all, Sidney’s home was just a massive block of building situated on acres and acres of land, standing still and lonely.

Then came you.

He stripped his home clean when you moved in. Little by little, you were able to incorporate yourself into his home. You had a say in every change; what has to go and what can stay. What paint colors to use and what kind of furniture he should get. Sidney did nothing but say "yes" the entire time. He wanted you to feel at home as much as he did. Neither the place nor the big still and lonely building did matter because he had you. For Sidney, you were home.

From the gorgeous outdoor landscape, classic hardwood floors, to high and white ceilings, Sidney wanted every corner of his home – inside and out, to have a touch of you. Only you.

It was his futile attempt at a romantic gesture. He wanted to be reminded of you each time he was in it. Because just like what he said, no matter what happens, wherever he may be, you were the person he knew he’s always going to come home to.

Looking back, it hasn’t occurred to you just how high and white the ceilings were. How distant everything seemed. Without Sidney, all of it seemed dull and ordinary. You just did not realize it until you spent the last several hours staring at that boring ceiling, lying in an all too cold bed that has seen the best and the worst of you and Sidney.

In spite of your still heavy and tired eyes due to all the crying, you find yourself reaching for your phone yet again. Maybe this time you’d get an answer.

“Please pick up.” you utter as you try to numb yourself with the endless ringing of the line. It was getting really late. Even with what happened earlier, you still wanted to hear his voice. That way you’d know he was okay. That way you’d know he was coming home.

With time feeling like eternity, you managed to give it some thought. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe he was right. You did attack him; one way or another. You could have told him some other time when it felt right or when neither of you were tired. Maybe that way, he could have reacted differently.

The weight you feel in your chest must have been incomparable to how he felt. It came to him unsuspectedly. The least you could have done was lay it all down easy. But no, you chose to put him in a difficult position where he has to choose between his present and the future. An ambush that was undeniably uncalled for.

Maybe, at some point, you forgot Sidney had a life where you didn’t belong. Maybe that was where you went wrong. Sidney had a life. You made him yours.

Your hand travels down to your stomach so as to remind you of what life already is – what life will be. Sidney knew you were carrying his child and the first thing he did was leave. For somebody else, it would have been their cue to go. But here you were, instead of feeling all the right things you should be feeling, still waiting for him.

If your calculations were right, it was another hour before Sidney finally came home. You turned away from the bedroom door and pretended to be asleep. He was quiet but his presence said otherwise. There wasn’t much movement being that Sidney was stoned at the door looking across the room. Looking at you.

Out of all the years that the two of you have spent together, this was the first time he actually did not feel like coming home.

Instead of the comfort he’s always felt each time he opened the door to your shared bedroom, Sidney felt unsure. It was as if he almost did not want to come home at all. Because you, who once brought him peace, was the very person who handed onto him a havoc served on a silver plate.

Sidney no longer minded the fact that he knew you waited for him. He knew you were still awake yet the first thing he chose to do was head towards the bathroom. The clear cut sound of the door coming to a close sends shivers down your spine. You try blinking it away, but the tears just start coming.

When the bathroom door opens, you squeeze your eyes shut knowing what’s to come next. It was a while before Sidney decided to come to bed. You feel it shift with the weight of having Sidney in it.

Normally, his arms would magically snake its way to your body and lock you in an embrace. That was the only way for Sidney to get a comfortable sleep. Now, he stares at the ceiling for a good minute or so before he shifts and looks at the back of your head.

He did not want to say a thing though he felt like he needed to.

It was wrong for him to feel this way. He knew that. But now that he’s conflicted, Sidney knows he’s going to have to give himself some time. Perhaps, even some time away. From this house. From you.

He takes a deep breath; long but subtle. The one you make when you’re trying to calm yourself before diving off a cliff. Sidney wishes he could come out of his. To be able to swim back to his surface. Because as hard as it was to admit, you were drowning him.

“Will you ever change your mind?” he breaks the ice and asks.

Despite being nervous to what his answer might be, you return the question.

“Will you change yours?”

He doesn’t say a word. And with that, you knew Sidney’s silence was his answer.

You do the same.

Though there was something he did want to let you know.

I don’t want to have to lose you.

But instead, he says, “I don’t want to lose you.”

You stifle a sob as a tear meets your pillow.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t answer not because you didn’t want to. You didn’t answer because you were afraid that you couldn’t think of any.

You hate to think you’d have to lose one another over the very thing that was supposed to make the two of you whole. The truth is, you were scared about so many things. You just didn’t know you’d have to be scared about losing Sidney.

𖥸

A few days have passed since you and Sidney got to talking. It was barely one being that all you’ve done was fight. It was already more than just an argument and time has been nothing but cruel in letting you know that the sudden change you see in him now is his way of telling you that the both of you are not and will never be on the same page.

Sidney chose to drown himself more in his Summer commitments. The last thing you heard he was off signing brand deals and staying a lot longer at the club. Now, while he’s busy playing in between putts and pucks, you’ve gone to another appointment and have been taking good care of yourself and your baby to the best of your abilities.

You were at the task of putting away the lillies you have bought on your way home when you hear Sidney’s car enter the driveway. It would not be long before he opens the door. You have not really thought of what to say to him. As much as you try to understand where he’s coming from, you badly hope he does the same thing to you and simply honor what’s already on the table.

The sound of keys being tossed onto the bowl rings throughout the hallway; commencing Sidney’s arrival. You see him enter the room in his usual golfing attire, lugging his equipment behind him.

You have not felt the thick air of uncertainty for a while and you realize it was because he was not around. You offer him a tight-lipped smile once you meet his eyes.

“Hey, you.” you call for him in a tone that lets him know you were open to talk should he want to discuss things with you.

Sidney declines your invitation through his own, “Hi.”

You feel a pang in your chest so you try and make up for it by putting the rest of the mess sitting on the island away. Sidney, on the other hand, sees what you’re trying to do. Nevertheless, he ignores it. Instead, he makes his way around you, heading towards the fridge to get a drink.

You give up.

“Is this really how you want things to be when you come home?” you ask.

Sidney sighs, letting your words sit in the air. He lets the sound of the water hitting the glass mock you as an answer. You watch him drink its entirety with a stern face, unbothered to even look you in the eye.

A month ago you can’t even picture him behaving like this. Time is fickle, so they say. But it is just as unpredictable and brutal.

“Sid,” you call, failing to mask the sound of your voice nearly breaking. Of course, you were desperate to have a decent conversation with him. You miss him. And even though you know you would not change your mind anymore, the best thing you can do is to at least have the chance to change his.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” you reach for his hand to hold it.

For a moment, you see his eyes soften. He looks down on your hands. You were scared that he was going to dismiss you but much to your relief, Sidney held your hand instead. He tenderly rubbed the back of your hand whilst he tried to find the words to utter.

This was one of the things you miss. Sidney’s touch. He’s always had a way with it. Nothing really mattered for as long as Sidney held you. You felt so secure – safe from anything that may come your way. For as long as you were with Sidney, you needn’t have to feel scared.

Just when you feel a sliver of hope, you see a somber expression in his face the moment you look back at him.

“I don’t have anything new to say.” he nearly apologizes.

Disappointment now printed all over yours, you choose to let him know of what kept you busy.

“I went to Claire and got a sonogram.” you tell him, forcing out a smile.

You opted not to get one the first time despite Claire’s advice. You wanted to have Sidney with you in that room. But now, it was painfully clear that it might never happen. Not to mention the fact that his child is continuing to grow regardless of what he had to say about it.

Sidney gladly lets your hand go so as to caress his nape. When he falls silent, you continue nonetheless.

“The baby is healthy.” you add.

Shrugging the latter off, he asks, “What about you?”

He still cared about you. At least that was there.

Is it really too much to wish he’d feel the same way for his child?

“I’m fine.” you answer, uninterested with your own well-being.

Sidney says nothing else but nods, dismissing whatever you still have to say concerning his unborn child.

“Won’t you at least see it?” you try for yet another time.

Sidney’s jaw clenches but he chooses to let it go. He didn’t come home to fight.

He pays you a meaningful look, devoid of the fact that the said sonogram was already pinned on the fridge along with a few old polaroids that the two of you intentionally kept for each other’s sake.

“I told you, I don’t have anything new to say.” he repeats himself. “And I still won’t even if I see it.”

It was clear that the two of you were trying to make ends meet. But Sidney was not trying hard enough.

“Then what are we doing here?”

You were offended, of course. You were utterly hurt by his appalling insensitiveness. Sidney did not give even an inch of care but that shouldn’t justify acting too much of an ass about it.

“Am I supposed to wait for you to change your mind before I continue carrying your child?” you continue, “I’m pretty sure pregnancy doesn’t work that way, Sid.”

Do you take him for a fool? He thinks.

You touched a nerve, causing Sidney to lose himself again.

“Who even told you I wanted one?” he retorted.

What does he think would happen after sex? A gala? A dinner party?

You need not stress on the obvious. Besides, doing so would just take you miles down the surface you’ve barely even scratched. Dealing with a closed-minded Sidney and piling on his share of negativity would just be counterproductive.

“I’m not changing my mind, Sidney.” you firmly state.

The time Sidney was gone did not make you want the things he wanted. It just made you certain – so sure, that you want nothing else but this baby. And you know there was no other way out.

“Are you with me on this or not?”

He scoffs at the thought of you making him choose.

“You’d really go that far, wouldn’t you?”

“That far?” you scorn.

“Sidney, that ‘far’ we happened to be discussing right now, is a life together!” you stress, pointing a finger at his chest. “So, yes. I am willing to go that far.”

Sidney could not find the words to save his own cause. But regardless of the problem he still hopes you can set aside, he knows that you will eventually come to your senses and choose the life that you were already living with him.

However, the wounds were barely even healed and here you were, deciding to pick at it again.

“I told you to come back only when you’re ready to be an adult about this and face it with me.” you order. “I don’t need you starting a fight because you know I will never change my mind.”

“Well, you know what? Neither will I.” Sidney shakes his head, adamant to bow down in favor of your will.

“There. I said it.” he adds, thinking of the night you told him about your pregnancy.

He sees your eyes watering and he knew it would be enough for you to pull him back in. But this wasn’t like the other times. You wanted different things and he did too. Maybe that’s how it should be. Maybe it isn’t worth prolonging what has clearly ended.

“You’re right.” he says, “I shouldn’t have come home in the first place.”

Suffice it to say that he did not deserve to feel half of what you have been feeling, you hold him back once he starts retreating.

“W-Where are you going?”

“Geno’s.” He shortly answers. “I cannot be on board with something you chose to decide all on your own.”

You fall silent as it was not the response you were expecting, especially not from Sidney. So instead of speaking for you and his unborn child, you watch him leave once again.

𖥸

Sidney made sure he was kept preoccupied for a reason. It was evident that you were making him choose. And despite him denying, he is certain that regardless of the path he’d be taking, you’ll choose to have the baby and leave the life you have already built with him.

He hated the possibility that you might leave him for something that was unplanned. Something that could have been prevented by a birth control shot. But no, it didn’t. It frustrates him that you won’t take the only ‘out’ he’s got to offer. It frustrates him even more to know that regardless of your choice, he just could not see himself being tied up to a commitment he knows he will never want.

Yes, he may have wanted and hoped for a life with you but that was it. Only you. He did not need anything more. On top of it all, he’s scared. He’s scared because he knows that he almost hated you for it.

You have reached an impasse and you and Sidney both know it. It was just a matter of who’s going to be the one to break it to the other. He doesn’t want to be the one to do so, hence why he chose to leave.

Sidney was a man that loved calculation. Everything had to be precise. Otherwise meant having to give a shot at failure. That was how he felt for the majority of his career. He did excel at school but it did not challenge him. It took less energy and made him less driven. He wanted to acquire so much and be so much more within so little time. Wishful thinking and ambitions aside, he made everything he wanted happen.

He just wishes he could figure this one out before it’s too late.

Geno had his feet up on the couch, hands were glued on the game controller, yelling at the TV. It was another game that he had one of Anna’s nephews teach him. He had nothing to do for the entire day and he was a firm believer that wasting time was not really wasted – only if you make it count.

The count, if you dare ask, was a 2-4 game versus some kid on the internet. N8Dawg29.

Geno’s shouting at the TV was put to a stop when the doorbell rang.

“Lucky bastard.” he says, throwing the controller elsewhere.

Given the moment’s notice, he wasn’t expecting anyone. He had no idea who it was at the other side of the door. By the time he opens it, Sidney’s face comes into view.

“Sid!” he says his name with a giant smile on his face. The very same smile that was washed away by the look Sidney had on his. Lost.

What brings you here? was what he wanted to ask. But given the way his friend looked, it was apparent that something big was bothering him.

“What’s wrong?”

Concern traveled to Geno’s eyes when Sidney spoke of your name as an answer.

“Is she alright?” he asks him, opening the doors of his home wide for Sidney.

Sidney looks him in the eye and says, “She’s pregnant.”

As the brand new information hit him, Geno begins to realize that such news might not have been well-received by Sidney.

Uncomfortable and panicking as to how he’d make light of the situation, Geno asks, “Who’s the father?”

𖥸

Geno knew he needed reinforcement. N8Dawg29 would have to wait.

No, it wasn’t because Geno was losing. It was because he had more important things to tend to. Let him leave it at that.

Two crystal clear snifter glasses were pinched in between his fingers whilst his other hand held a bottle of premium scotch. He takes long strides across the room, making his way towards the lesser halves of the Pittsburgh Penguins’ three-headed monster.

The Captain had just broken the news to Kris, but unlike Geno, the defenseman took his time before sharing his two cents. Sidney spared no detail as to what happened. The truth that he didn’t want a baby, and the ugly truth that you did.

Just like how he looked in front of Geno, the expression on Sidney’s face was more than enough for Kris to deduce that congratulations weren’t in order. Despite him being happy to learn about your pregnancy, Kris just couldn’t let Sidney feel as though his feelings were invalid.

Quietly, whilst the biggest names of the team sat together, the weight of the elephant in the room was still borne solely by the team’s captain. Once each of them was able to take a sip from their respective glasses, it was Kris’ turn to ask a question.

“Does she really intend to keep the baby?”

Sidney nods as the alcohol runs down his throat.

“Actually, she made me choose,” he says. “–said she’d do it with or without me.”

“Are you going to let her?”

Sid meets Kris’ eyes, “What would you have me do?”

Kris takes a deep breath, conflicted as to whether he was in the position to say what’s in his mind. “You know it really doesn’t matter what I think. It is still your decision.”

“Of course, it matters.” Sidney counters. You’re a father. He wanted to add.

“What is it that you want to hear from me?”

“Just hit me. Tell me how you feel. I can handle it.”

“All right,” Kris puts down his glass thereafter clasping his hands. “Are you a hundred percent sure that you don’t want to be a Dad?”

Sidney finds it hard to answer. But he knows it wasn’t because there may be a slight chance that he would eventually want to be one. It was mainly because he knew saying it out loud would paint him in a bad light. He can’t afford to look selfish in front of his friends.

Kris questions, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t pictured yourself with a child? Ever?”

“Of course, I have. It’s just– I don’t want to have one now.” Sidney feels like a fool for saying it out loud. “You know I love kids. I have always been great with them. You know how I am with Alex, right?”

Sidney looks at Geno once he speaks but all Geno did was avoid his gaze. Even he didn’t favor how Sidney had to bring up his godson as an example.

Instead, Geno asks, “Then what is the problem?”

“I don’t think I can be a good father. I’m afraid I’d screw it up.” Sidney fiddles with his fingers.

“How can you be so sure you won’t be a good father?”

Sidney sighs, “How did you know?”

“No one knows they’re going to be a kick-ass Dad until they become one.” Kris says. “I couldn’t even figure out how diapers work the first time I had to do it, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to be a good Dad.”

Sidney runs a hand through his naked hair. “Maybe that’s it.”

Kris’ eyebrows furrow, waiting for Sidney to continue.

“How can I be good at something I don’t even want to become?” He looks at both of his greatest friends.

He continues. “It’s different with you and Catherine, Kris. You both wanted Alex. You both wanted kids. I’m not quite sure I can even begin to like the idea of having my own and yet, here it is – already tearing me and Y/N apart.”

Kris takes a deep breath.

With his words subtly laced with judgment, he says, “There is only one thing you can do.”

“What?” Sidney raises a brow.

“You have to let her go.” Kris continued. “Even if it means she’d have to do it alone.”

Kris respects Sidney for not wanting to have a child. He knows he’d have to understand where Sidney’s at in life. If he says he’s not ready to father a child, then so be it. But that does not give him a pass on being a selfish prick who he’d still have to understand in exchange for you and your unborn child’s sake. You were as important as Sidney is to Kris. He wouldn’t simply allow Sidney to take everything he could while you empty yourself for him.

Sidney asks yet another appalling query.

“Do you really think she’d choose it over me?”

Kris answers with a knowing look on his face, “Any responsible adult would choose a baby over you, Sidney.”

“Kris,” Geno puts his glass down, interfering.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Sidney takes offense.

“What did you expect me to say, anyway? Did you come here expecting I will coddle you? That Geno and I will help you be this irresponsible?” Kris tells him off, switching glances between the two of them.

Geno calls him in a definitive tone. “Tanger, stop.”

“No,” he stressed. “The two of you came to my house asking for my help. Here it is. I am a father. It’s one thing to feel unready for such an immense responsibility. I get that. But, it seems to me that you’re seeing this predicament as a game you just have to win no matter what. That kid isn’t even born yet and here you are, antagonizing him for breaking your relationship. That is your child, Sidney. Your child with the woman you claim to love. Even if you don’t want it, the least you could do is acknowledge that it’s here. It’s not just a thing you have to tolerate.”

Sidney and Geno fall silent.

Kris gathers himself and stands, aiming to leave the room.

“Let her go, Sidney.” he recapitulates. “You know you’re not the person she needs right now.”

𖥸

Three days have gone since Sidney left home. You haven’t gotten enough sleep since then. You’ve tried busying yourself tending to some house chores but none of it sufficed. Tiring yourself did not help in your pursuit to keep your mind from thinking of him.

As much as you wanted to, regardless of your doctor’s orders, you just can’t function bearing a magnitude as heavy as the one you’re facing with Sidney, hanging over your head. Here you are, barely functioning through a day, how could you possibly picture a life without him in it? It seems as though the past is now a blur. But then again, so is your future.

“Hey,” Cath’s voice soothes you from the other end of the line. “How are you?”

You almost forgot that you were on a call with Catherine.

Dissociated, you answer, “I’m… I’m doing okay.”

“Are you sure?” she asks for the hundredth time.

For the past three days, you’ve always answered that you were. Perhaps, it was for you to save face in the hopes of seeing Sidney again.

“No.” you finally admit despite Catherine already knowing, “I’m trying.”

“I know you are.” she says.

It seems as though she wanted to say something else but didn’t know how. Sidney, apart from staying with the Malkin’s has gotten the liking of dropping by her house to see her husband. It had been a day since the first time they had talked about you. Catherine knew little of it but she knew Kris didn’t exactly agree with whatever Sidney had told him.

Finally, she lets out a sigh, “Listen, Sidney’s here.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name. With a glint of hope in your voice, you ask to confirm. “He is? How is he?”

“Well, to be honest, not good.”

You find comfort at the thought. You might still have a relationship worth saving.

“Do you want to speak with him? I can–” Catherine offers but you’re quick to decline. Maybe some time to himself will do you both good.

“No don’t, Cath. Really, it’s fine.” you say with a sad smile. “Knowing that he’s there is enough.”

Silence sits on the line for a moment. You have always waited for Sidney to come home for the majority of your entire relationship. It didn’t matter if he was gone for days or even more than a week; he came home every time. That thought alone made the wait bearable. Now, the uncertainty of it all just makes the wait longer because unlike before, you’re no longer sure he’ll be coming home.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” Cath pulls you back from your thoughts. The truth is, you haven’t.

“Have you been eating? What about your medications? Are you taking them?”

“Well, yeah. I am. I am taking them.” Sometimes on an empty stomach. Sometimes you miss it by an hour or two.

“Have you slept at all today?”

“I… Not really. I haven’t been sleeping well. There’s a lot going on in my mind.” you say as your eyes flicker to your surroundings. You then realize that the chaos in your mind has begun to translate into your home. Your sight eventually falls onto the load of dishes you’ve yet to tend to and others already cleaned waiting to be put away.

“I know. But you need to take it easy.” she reminds you. Catherine has a point.

“Please take care of yourself, Y/N.” you hear her sigh. “Your baby needs you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” you earnestly tell her, adding that Claire’s stopping by in an hour or two. “A friend is coming over to keep me company tonight. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

However, just as you stand whilst talking, you feel a sudden surge of sharp pain in your abdomen.

You find yourself holding your lower stomach, unsure if it was something to be concerned about. Claire has informed you about the minor discomforts you were inevitably going to feel as your body adjusts to being pregnant, but was it supposed to hurt this much?

Catherine calls your name when you failed to answer.

“Yeah?”

You start to walk, aiming towards the kitchen. Your palm rests on your abdomen in an attempt to relieve yourself of the pain you were still feeling.

You hold the phone with a bit more pressure, you hear Cath ask, “How are you really? You know you can tell me stuff. I know it must have been tough having to deal with Sid.”

You sigh in an effort to alleviate the pain. Your eyes begin to water by the mention of his name. It has been tough for you. If Cath could see it, how come Sidney couldn’t?

“I miss him, Catherine.”

“I know you do.” she replies sympathetically. “How can I help you?”

“I don’t know.” you reply as your breath becomes labored. “Just– , please tell him to come home.”

You shut your eyes, pressing on your stomach once you reached the counter.

“We need him.”

𖥸

Was Kris right? Sidney was deep in thought as the paddle hit the ball from one end of the table to another. Geno hits it right back. Sidney does the same. They go on and on uttering no words but mere sighs and labored breathing as they play the game of table tennis.

Even if Kris was right, he knew it was still going to be Sidney’s decision. If you yourself could not convince him of the life he so clearly does not want, what makes Kris think he can do otherwise?

Despite the heated conversation, Sidney was still thankful Kris had a gym in his basement. He needed to clear his mind; something Geno understood. Sidney rarely gets upset, but most of the times he did, it was for the right reasons. Now, however, Geno wasn’t sure.

“What are you thinking, Sid?” Geno asks as he recovers after missing the ball.

Through his still labored breathing, Sidney puts the paddle down and briefly looks at him. He shakes his head, not devoid of a single thought - but overwhelmed by millions of it concerning: you.

When he doesn’t hear a word from Sidney, he finally asks, “It’s been three days. Don’t you want to come home?”

Sid plays it off with a grin, “Why? You’re getting sick of me?”

Geno rolls his eyes, “Yes, what are you gonna do about it?”

The two of them share a brief laugh, trying to lighten the weight bore by the topic of you.

“I don’t know, man.” This time, Sidney tells him the truth. He does not know. He had hoped to know by being away from you. But if asked the same question of whether he wants the life that you do, he still has the same answer.

Before he can say another word, Geno speaks as if he read Sidney’s mind.

“If it’s not entirely a yes, it’s a no, Sid.” he tells him. “You’ve got only two ways out of this. To stay or to leave.”

Sidney’s taken aback.

To stay would mean to live a life off his books; blind and unplanned. He’d be traversing an environment completely foreign and unknown. To have a child of his own. To have a family. Forever.

And on the other, to leave would mean to accept the gut-wrenching picture of a life without you; to embrace it through and through. And maybe hope that someday, it will eventually get easier.

Before Sidney could even answer, the Letangs came rushing into the room.

“We gotta go,” Kris announces with urgency, the key to his car already in his hand.

Sidney’s eyes fall onto a frantic Catherine who was clutching onto her phone - voice trembling as she says, “It’s Y/N.”

𖥸

Sidney has never feared anything in his life. Between having to leave home at such a young age and thereafter fighting the horrible concussions that cost him almost fifty games off of his career, he has never felt as frightened as he did when it was you who was already on the line. He admits that he was not in the right mind to deal with what you have told him, but the fear of losing you was so insurmountable that it made being a father seem less terrifying than he could have possibly imagined.

“Where is she?”

“Is she okay?”

“Have you seen Claire?”

Wanting to breathe became obsolete once Sidney chose to speak all aforementioned. He held Cath’s shoulder, almost shaking her, in an attempt to get an answer.

“Claire took care of everything. She’s fine.” she says, relaying what Claire had told her.

He lets go a sigh of relief. He runs his fingers through his evidently unkempt hair – and asks, “What about the baby?”

If the record was right, it was the first time he’s ever asked about your baby.

Despite how Cath felt about Sidney, she did not simply have the answer.

Worriedly, he walks past her and looks through the small window of the lounge door. He sees a handful of people, mostly visitors. Sure – there were doctors going from one side of the room to the other wearing their coats and clipboards in hand, talking. Always talking. Giving out information, whether well-received or heart piercing. It was a whole ‘nother job that seemed so ordinary. A whole lot more than what is perceived.

Sidney wanted to go to you. He wanted to find you. But how can he do that if doing so would mean causing more risks than he’s already had? Because even if it was the least of his worries, Sidney could not possibly handle more attention from the crowd.

It was exactly the ugliness you had to bear being with Sidney. Being with him meant having to consider who he was inside and outside of the rink; that your personal life is inevitably tangled with the one he had with his skates on. There was no double life with Sidney. He has successfully integrated the two so he gets to live both. As for you, you were the tide that went along with it — the tide that kept his boat afloat.

𖥸

Claire hoped she wouldn’t be spending the night in the hospital. But then came you.

She was glad she still had the spare key you’ve given her to your home. Between scrambling to find it amidst her million other keys and finding you sitting on the cold floor of the kitchen, holding your stomach, with blood apparent in your clothing, Claire was just glad that she got to you the soonest you needed her to.

“My baby–” was the first thing you told her as you tried speaking in between sobs.

You looked at her, tears running down your cheeks, once she had approached you.

“It’s alright. I got you. I got you.” she repeatedly told you.

Her eyes fell onto where your hand was. Truth be told, she has never been this scared in her life. It was crazy how she simultaneously knew and didn’t know what to do. It was you. Your safety and the life of the child you’ve yet to birth, placed unexpectedly in her hands. Despite all that, she was certain that she’s not about to lose anyone. Neither you nor your baby.

“Please don’t pass out.” she murmured more to herself as she held your face. “Stay with me, alright? You guys are gonna be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Claire stayed true to her word and took care of you. You were settled in a private room, resting. It was evident that all the emotional and physical turmoil you’ve been trying to suppress has finally caught on and got the better hold of you. Scarily so, despite the night’s ordeal, you were now safe. You and the baby.

You were asleep when Claire left you in your hospital room. She still has a few of your documents that needed sorting out. Well, that and having to deal with the man – with both of his hands placed on his waist, pacing – waiting for her at the end of the lobby.

“How is she?” Sidney asks Claire the moment he was within hearing distance.

She ignores him. Instead, she goes inside the waiting room and acknowledges the presence of Catherine alongside Kris and Evgeni.

“How is she?” Catherine shoots the same question.

Claire initially answers with a nod then proceeds, “She’s going to be fine. We just need to let her get some rest.”

Cath nods as well as the others.

“And the baby?”

Claire doesn’t give a definite answer.

“We’re still waiting for several results.”

“W-Why?” Sidney jumps in the conversation. “Did something happen to the baby?”

Unfortunately, as much as Claire wanted to hit Sidney’s face, she couldn’t. She wasn’t in the hospital just because she’s your friend. Simply put, duty calls. And right now, Sidney demands her of it.

“I am not at liberty to disclose anything at the moment, but I assure you, we are doing the best we can.” she tells Sidney despite not meeting his eyes.

“Will you at least let me see her?” He pleads.

“I don’t think so.” she states firmly.

“What– Why?” Sidney asks quite defensively. “I am her emergency contact person!”

“No, you are not.” she informs him. “You cannot see her files because you are no longer her emergency contact person. I am now. You are neither her next of kin nor are you married. And if you are present as any partner should have, you would know.”

Sidney scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”

“You are not my patient, Sid. I am in no way responsible for disclosing information Y/N clearly doesn’t want to share with you.”

“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” Sidney complains.

“I have nothing to say to you.” Claire tells him.

“I can’t believe how unprofessional you can be!” Sidney exclaims when Claire continues to ignore his requests.

“No,” She looks at him for a moment, gets back to reading your form on her clipboard, and meets Sid’s eyes once again. “It’s the consequences.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

The Letangs come in between the two to mitigate the tension, “We’ll just wait for as long as we need to.”

“Why? What’s the plan, Sid? Huh? Isn’t this what you wanted? To spend your years like Jagr?”

“Don’t you fucking go there.” He warns.

Even more appalled by Sidney’s reaction, Claire grins and shrugs shamelessly before walking away.

“I think I just did.”

𖥸

Sidney did not exactly know how he did it and how fast he had done it, but as soon as Claire had her hands full, he went straight to grab the brass metal of the door knob leading to your room.

Quietly, as he spared one last glance of his surroundings, he turns it and opens the door.

It was perhaps a good thing that your bed was not adjacent to the doorway. Sidney could not fully comprehend the things wrecking his brain all at once. Although he knew of one thing: he finally gets to see you.

It was indeed a good thing that your bed was not adjacent to the doorway. Your mind drifts right off the tip of your finger as you look outside your window. The fog was so even and misty that it made the entire window a blur. The only thing you could see were the steady white lights of that huge corner block building fashioned by the noise of cars driving off to a better place than the four corners of your hospital bedroom.

Judging by the scenery, you could tell that it was well past midnight.

As you lie with your still aching heart, you find yourself grazing your stomach ever so gently as if you were holding something– someone, much more meaningful than your entire being.

If only he was–

“Hey.”

He is.

Sidney had both of his hands resting on his side alienated by the thick air he usually causes. It was a battle as to whether to go near you or stay still. But judging by the way you looked at him so strangely, he knew he didn’t have any other choice.

You watch him inch himself closer until he is already at the foot of the bed. He looked unusually small for a man of his stature. Your eyes did not miss a thing. You saw the hesitant look he had coupled with the urgency that is perhaps all too late to be paraded before your eyes.

Despite noticing all that, in Sidney’s eyes, you did nothing but look. He was scared not because it made him uneasy. He was scared because you have never looked at him that way.

There are so many things to be said but Sidney was at a loss for words. He wanted to ask how you were; how the baby was. He wanted to say how sorry he felt for leaving and how dumb it was to let you suffer when he could’ve been there like he should have. He wanted to let you know how badly he prays and hopes that you’ll find it in yourself to forgive him. But mostly, he just really wished that you’d still want to make it work and build that family – with him.

How could he say all that when it feels like you were miles away beyond his reach despite him already holding your hand?

Finally, as though the words have only occurred to him, he asks, “How are you?”

He looks back at you as intently as he thought you did. However, your eyes mirrored his, unwillingly. Sidney takes the empty seat beside your bed; never letting go of his hold on you.

Soon enough, you look away and aim your attention onto his hands. Both of his palms embraced your hand oh so desperately, pleading a prayer only he could hear.

“I’m sorry.” he says, eyes now misty with tears. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve been with you. I’m sorry. I was selfish. Please please forgive me.” he adds, pressing wet and much more desperate kisses on your hand.

He waited for you to say something in return but he received nothing. You looked at him exactly the way you did when he arrived; sparing him a blink or two whenever your eyes got tired.

It was the kind of silence Sidney wasn’t accustomed to. It was the kind of silence he never knew.

Until now. Until you.

His voice breaks when he decides to speak yet again.

“Please say something.” he desperately asks.

But you don’t.

You just lie in the same cold bed, letting him hold your hand.

Afraid of what has become you, Sidney masks his fear with a wide smile albeit it didn’t do any better. It just made him feel worse. Maybe even a thousand times more than he’s already had.

“Mon amour…” he calls you. “Please talk to me.”

You blink and look away.

Sorrow now filling the void he feels from within, Sidney sees your hand that was still resting atop your stomach.

For the first time, he then dared to ask, “How… How's the baby?”

Sidney sees you look at him yet again as if to finally acknowledge his presence in the room.

However, the words you spoke next nearly made him wish you did not bother at all.

“There is no baby, Sidney.”

You spit the words like vile coursing from your throat; voice hoarse from the eventful night.

“W-What?” he stammers, evidently shocked at your uninhibited way of revealing such news.

“There is no baby.” you repeat just as you remove your hand from his hold.

“You may go.” you quietly add, looking away.

Confused, off-guard, and terrified, Sidney tries to grasp the thought of the truth.

“What do you mean there is no baby?” Sidney begins to flood you with queries. “They must have read the tests wrong. It can’t be right, can it? Claire told Cathy everything was fine! We do have a baby!” he nearly grovels trying to get a hold of you, pleading.

“We have a baby, y/n.” He breaks. “We’re going to be a family.”

Oh you’d kill to have him say those words when you needed him to. Only he didn’t. And that is the truth you’re now choosing.

“I need you to go, Sidney.” you respond calmly, frustrating him even more.

“Please, y/n!” he cries. “What happened to our baby?”

“It’s gone, alright!” you lose it just as Sidney’s world begins to crumble, “You got what you wanted!”

You blink away the tears about to break just as you say, “I need you to go because I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“No– There’s got to be another way for us. We always find a way.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Sidney.” you reiterate. “I don’t think we should be together.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re mad at me,” he argues. “Just be mad at me, y/n!”

He grabs your hand and places it close to his cheek. You can feel the tears on his skin and his desperate cry to escape the inevitable.

You look at him with the same fondness you once had. The last he’ll ever see.

“It’s over, Sid.” you declare. “I don’t want this– I don’t want to be with you.”

“Y/N… please,” he says. “I’m begging you.”

“Leave, Sidney.” you reach for the red button on the side of your bed, hoping to get Claire.

Sidney’s tears continue to fall. But you no longer care.

“I can’t do this without you.” he says in between sobs.

You press the red button repeatedly. You wipe your tears away wishing Claire would get to you faster.

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor; a complete mess. “Please don’t make me leave.”

Before you can push him further away, the door to your room abruptly opens; Kris and Geno come into view.

With a firm yet cautious voice, Geno calls him. “Sidney.”

Kris puts an arm over Sidney’s shoulder, “Let her get some rest.”

“Y/N–” Sidney calls for you once more; bearing with him the thought of losing his son and his son’s mother. The family you wanted a little too early. The family he wanted a little too late. The painful truth that Sidney chose to carry with him for years however ugly and cruel you made it to be just so he can still make it seem real.

If only he knew.

series taglist: to be reblogged! [tumblr crashes a lot and won't let me post smh]

note: woooow been a hot min! how's everyone? i hope you liked this long over-due update i'm so sorry life got in the way for a bit. anw, you know how much of a sucker i am for interaction so lmk what you think love ya! ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #sidney crosby fanfiction #call me crosby #cmc #barzzal imagines #letters to crosby #the gif... very telling

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heraldofcrow · 1 month

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Honest “Favorite Character” Asks 🌿

I can’t find character asks that suit my type of discussion, so I made some. These are meant to be somewhat personal, therapeutic, and pensive.

Send someone one of their favorite characters along with any of the following questions.

—

1. Do you project onto this character?

2. Did you always like this character?

3. What first drew you to this character?

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?

6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

14. Are you physically attracted to this character?

15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?

21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?

22. Do you think you will always love this character?

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?

26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?

31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?

34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?

37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?

38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?

39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?

40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?

43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?

44. Which season makes you think of this character?

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?

47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?

48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?

49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

#now go attack your mutuals and their favs <3 #i just couldn’t find the type of asks that help process feels on the blorbos so i just made em #character asks #fandom asks #character ask game #ask game #fictional characters #blorbos #mutuals #fandom

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imsiriuslyreading · 5 months

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hiya... mind if i have a little complain?

OKAY i put my silly little face on my silly little tiktok and talk about these incredible fics i get to read and honestly i feel SO LUCKY to be here but when i tell you NOTHING GRINDS MY GEARS MORE than when people come into my comments to talk shit about a fic or a writer

like ??? are you quite well? bro, do you KNOW HOW LUCKY WE ARE, some of the fics I've read have c h a n g e d my life, genuinely. whether that be by a sentence in the story or the people I've met through them, world altering. all of it.

so the fact some people think they can dance their merry little jig into my space and talk the maddest shit about the work someone has done for free, when that writer has not only put so much of themselves into a story, but also been incredibly vulnerable by posting it online? i- you got the wrong one

i think when it comes to plot points or interesting dynamics, there can be really fulfilling conversations to be had and observations to be made. but shitting all over someones writing because its not how you'd write it?

(dis)respectfully, go and take your face for a shit

I JUST WANNA BE HERE WITH MY FRIENDS AND BE HAPPY AND READ ABOUT THE GAYS DOING THE GAY THINGS

#sorry #im not even sorry actually that was a lie #lanas crying again #but this time with RAGE #let me enjoy the dead gay wizards in peace you heathen

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her-satanic-wiles · 5 months

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Masterlist ⛧ Hellish Delights Masterlist

Words: 8k.

Warnings: Copia’s a piece of shit, rape, non-con elements but more dubcon, mentions of rape, use of the word rape, violent sex, rough sex, dubcon, cnc, filmed having sex (unknowingly), filmed having sex (knowingly), piv, vaginal sex, rough vaginal sex, blood kink, pain kink, rape fantasy, masturbation, semi-public sex, semi-public masturbation, dirty talk, Copia is a creepy old man, rape recreation, spit as lube, fear kink, fear play?, degradation, misogyny, references to free use, reference to bondage, somnophilia, dacrophilia, vaginal fingering, rough fingering, exhibitionism, caught masturbating (close call), groping, coercion; slut shaming, nipple play, fingering, hair pulling, breeding kink, victim blaming, naked woman clothed man, under-negotiated to non-negotiated kinks, possessive, marking kink, use of safeword (sort of), praise, objectification, poor mental health, detailed trauma, aftercare

Author's note: Hey, all! I promise I will get on Divine Desires soon, but this just kept itching away at my brain, and whoooo Nelly, was it difficult to ignore. But here we are now! Please heed the trigger warnings!

The Ghouls aren't demons in my fic. They're humans who work in the Ministry, but they're a different class of profession, somewhere between personal assistants and body guards, depending on the importance of Papa's task.

This is a work of fiction based in the extreme horror category and should be treated as such. I do not condone the actions the characters make, nor am I actively encouraging others to participate in such actions in everyday life. It also does not reflect the personalities of the performers who play these characters.

The purpose of this fic is to shock, scare, entertain, and make readers entirely uncomfortable. If you are not in a headspace where you can safely read and enjoy this story, or even if the trigger warnings make you uncomfortable, I highly recommend and encourage you not to read this. Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction.

If you are struggling to come to terms with past trauma, please talk to someone and seek professional help.

You deserve to feel safe, loved, and cared for. Thank you.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

Phantom didn’t need to be unmasked for Papa Copia to know something was wrong. The ghoul barely made out two words before Copia stood and grabbed his candles. The frantic explanation was given as Copia whipped around his room, trying to find the correct materials. On such short notice, certain members of the clergy wouldn’t be available to help. So Copia would just have to make do with what he had. Or rather who he had. Phantom had told him the situation at hand, but none of Phantom’s words were able to prepare him for what he was going to see.

He could hear your moans - no, screams- echoing down the corridor from the other end - the loud pleasure in your voice bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears atop the sounds of the ten or so pairs of feet clambering down the hall to reach you quickly.

“Will you cum on his cock?” It was Swiss’ voice that sounded above all else, dual-toned and demonic. He was well and truly lost to the possession now. “Will you cum on the cock that rapes you?” Rape. Satan only knew how long you’d been subjected to demonic torture. Yes, your voice was oozing with pleasure, but he could still hear the pain sneaking through it. He could taste your fear on his tongue. You’d consented in the end, as it sounded, but how much of that was genuine want versus the deluded, terrified mind clouded in order to protect its host from life-altering trauma.

“Yes!” You screamed looking back up into his eyes. “I’m gonna c-cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-!”

Copia swung the door open right as your orgasm hit, your mind clouding over and drool dripping from your mouth as you came all over Swiss’ cock. His eyes locked with yours and he had the unfortunate pleasure of watching the light fade, and your body go limp, bouncing with the rough force of Swiss’ hips as he continued to use you for his own gratification.

“You’re just in time, child.” The demon said, thrusts growing erratic. “Witness the gift of the Olde One.”

“He doesn’t advocate for such torment - especially on those undeserving.” Copia remarked as his clergymen took their positions in the room. The demon knew it was outmatched, and thus continued his assault on your body.

“Perhaps. But he advocates for rewards for his finest soldiers.”

“Ah, Asmodeus.”

“In the flesh, child.”

“Not for much longer.”

As the clergy began their chant, and the exorcism truly began, the demon Asmodeus made his final thrusts before releasing his spend into your unconscious body. Two of the Ministry’s ghouls, gargoyles more like, came forth to apprehend Swiss’ body and pull him away from you. Your hips fell onto the floor, ricocheting off the wood. Both Copia’s and Swiss’ eyes were trained on your severely abused core, the white flowing from you and dripping onto the ground, turning the faintest shade of pink as it mixed with the blood Swiss’ cock had forced out of you as he broke you. Copia could feel Asmodeus’ ferocity, his power surging at the sight of you, battered and bruised on the ground, leaking his cum. Given the surge of power coming from him, Asmodeus’ lust had mixed with Swiss’, both of them now fighting to bury themselves deep inside you again and have you once more to quench their lustful thirst.

Copia felt guilt wash over his body as it merged with an ocean of arousal. At the sight of Swiss’ cum spilling from you, his cock began to stir awake, wanting nothing more than to just get on his knees and take you as Asmodeus did. But he was your Papa, he could never bring himself to betray you, like that. If he was buried deep inside you, it would be with you as a willing participant, screaming beneath him, sure, but because he was taking you to paradise.

He shook himself out of the gross thoughts he was experiencing, and joined in to chant with his brethren. When he looked at Asmodeus finally, the demon shot Copia a knowing look before he was banished back to Hell, and Swiss’ unconscious body flopped exhaustedly to the floor. That look he received, told him that the demon saw right through him down to his very tainted soul. And though he knew the clergymen couldn’t read his mind like Asmodeus could, he still feared that someone could tell what he was thinking.

“Phantom,” Copia began, his voice shaky and weak until he cleared his throat, “we must take them all to the infirmary. Please go down and get as much help as you need. Wheelchairs should suffice.”

“Yes, Papa!”

Phantom, eager to save his closest friends turned on his heels and began his journey to the infirmary. Copia looked around the room, his eyes lingering as subtly as they could on each of the clergy’s lower regions, hoping he could find solidarity in such a fucked up situation. He couldn’t - which only added to his guilt.

He waited until everyone was settled on their chairs before he spoke again, giving specific instructions to each of the nurses who had come to assist with the tragedy, then addressing the clergy. “We must keep Swiss and the Sister separated,” he told everyone, “she has been through enough tonight without seeing his face again so soon.”

“What punishment for him, Papa?” a cardinal asked.

Copia sighed. “He was possessed - he would never do this in his right mind. I am… hesitant to sentence him. I’ll leave that up to the Sister’s good graces when she is strong enough to make those decisions. In the meantime, keep them separated.”

Copia followed you all the way down to the infirmary and stayed with you as you were getting immediate treatment. The bruises on your jaw were beginning to show, and your body was incredibly battered and red from the attack. But even so, even as he watched them mend you and put your broken pieces back together, his mind kept showing him your face - the expression twisted on it as you came around Swiss’ cock. The way you sounded still ringing in his ears - the sight of his seed dripping out of you.

He politely excused himself after making sure that you’d be okay and trotted back to his office, slamming the door shut behind him. By now, his erection was full of blood and aching to the touch against the confines of his jeans. His hands fumbled against his robes in desperation, throwing the garment over his head and onto the floor and leaning against the doorway as he pushed his jeans down far enough to expose himself. The cool, crisp autumn air making his balls tighten and his nipples erect beneath his shirt. His hand, still hidden beneath his leather glove, received a healthy glob of spit before he wrapped it around the head and began to stroke, spreading his saliva around and lubricating the slide.

He groaned at the sensation, his back fully pressed against the wood of his door. The slide was impeccable, but nothing compared to how you’d feel. Swiss wasn’t a small man by any capacity, and so Copia swallowed some guilt forming as he let his mind wander. Did he ruin your cunt? The amount of time he was inside you was so great, did he form a space just for him? Or were you still as tight as Copia wanted you to be? He imagined you’d still be nice and tight for him, though, he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched at the thought of him invading a space carved out by another man.

Copia always made it abundantly clear he wasn’t like other men, and sometimes that was to his detriment. For you, especially, he wanted you to feel safe around him, loved by him. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable in any capacity because he prided himself on being one of the “good guys”, that he’d never betray you in the same way the other men did. He worshipped women, he’d never be misogynistic to one. He was a stand-up, tolerant man. Yet there he was, walking slowly towards his desk and positioning himself against it, rubbing his erection so hard and fast, his arm was beginning to ache in discomfort with the image of you being roughly taken by one of his hardest-working ghouls. And he couldn’t help imagine what it would feel like to have been in Swiss’ - no, Azmodeus’ position - how tightly you’d cling onto him as he used you for his own pleasure; how your delicious cries would travel all the way down to his erection and have you weeping below him. He wondered how deliciously you’d sound begging for him to stop, pleading with him to show you mercy as he took what he wanted and gave not a single fuck for your wants, desires, or even personal pleasure.

His eyes shut tight as he savoured the sensations he experienced when he swung the door open, the painful pleasure painted on your face as you came for Lucifer knows how many times. How you passed out and your body went limp from exhaustion, yet bounced at the violence of Swiss’ thrusts. How his mouth went dry when he saw your red and swollen pussy eject Swiss’ seed, and pool amongst your blood on the floor. And with that final sight, his own orgasm reached him - his cum spurted across his desk and gathered on the wood, sending flashbacks to Swiss’ cum gathering the same way beneath you. He grunted animalistically, mouth hanging open as his body tingled from the force of his orgasm, toes curling in his boots and hand slowly coming to a halt, yet still wrapped tightly around his cock.

This was when the guilt was beginning to set in. Though you may have consented towards the end - you weren’t in your right mind. Copia had no idea just how long you’d been the subject of Azmodeus’ torment - or rather, torture - and thus knew that whatever happened to you earlier was not done with your willingness and permission. Yet there he was, eyes fixated on his cum as though it had tumbled from your delectable core, with disgust filling him from bottom to top as he realised just how gross he’d been. If you found out about this - you’d never trust him again. The Satanic Church didn’t welcome things like this in the same way Catholocism did. Granted they pretended they didn’t, but no actions were taken against the perpetrators of such crimes. And he was Papa. He was supposed to keep you safe. He’d failed you then, and as he wiped his spend from the mahogany, he realised he’d failed you now.

Life passed without incident until a few days later, when it had been brought to his attention by one of the guitar techs that Swiss kept disappearing from his duties and no one knew where he went for hours at a time. Copia knew. He didn’t want to believe it, but he had his suspicions. Immediately, he went into his office and switched on the computer, clicking away at menus and windows until he found what he was looking for: the security camera footage. He clicked on the first video in date chronological order and sat there, studying each frame. At first, nothing happened: it was just Swiss sitting at the foot of your bed, and by the looks of his shoulders - he was sobbing. He saw you two engaging in conversation - how your eyes widened in apparent fear as you registered who was there with you. He couldn’t help the stirrings of excitement at the sight of you visibly recoiling from Swiss’ presence, and then later from his comforting touch. Then, it all happened so fast.

One moment you were having a conversation, you nodded at him and then Copia watched as Swiss climbed on top of you. He was like an animal - a desperate, hungry animal that needed to be sated immediately or he’d die of whatever ailment was afflicting him. Swiss pawed at your bedsheets and hospital gown as he exposed your heavily bruised body to the elements, and spreading your legs wide enough to fit himself in between them. Swiss immediately pushed into you, and you winced as though you felt the same searing pain you felt the first time he did. But after a few uncomfortable thrusts, the pleasure returned once more, and your hands, now finally responding, flew to his shoulders and grasped on, digging your nails into his skin.

Copia’s cock was standing to attention at the sight of Swiss taking you again, and you accepting him willingly. And this time, he knew it was willing - your head nod was enough for him to know that you wanted Swiss inside you again - you wanted to feel that fucking cock take you for a second time. Copia was all but foaming at the mouth, fumbling with his robes once again and freeing his achingly hard cock. He barely even had the wherewithal to spit on it, so desperate to time his hands with Swiss’ hips, he was more than willing to start rubbing himself dry. Any pain he felt could be retribution for his perverted actions.

He cursed - partly at the feel of his cock being abused by his own hand, but also in frustration at the stupid, shitty fucking cameras they put everywhere had no fucking sound! Sweet Satan, he’d give his left nut to hear what Swiss was saying to you, and he’d give his right one to hear your response. He couldn’t even see Swiss’ lips to lip read anything, so instead he let his mind to the work.

He imagined Swiss telling you how much of a whore you were for him, letting him fuck you in an infirmary where anyone could walk in. He imagined Swiss reminding you of what he did to you the day before, and how he would do it again and again if he could. Lucifer knows Copia would. Copia would keep you bound and gagged and spread wide open for him to use as and when he saw fit. Copia would take your tight little cunt for hours at a time, and offer you no reprieve until he had his fill. What if Swiss was telling you that he wanted to do that very thing to you? Would Swiss let Copia have a turn on you? Would Swiss watch? Before Copia had chance to cum, Swiss had already done so, and was climbing off you. Copia loosened the grip on his dick but still continued to watch as Swiss walked away.

The next video was dated to the very next day, and began with Swiss entering your room while you were asleep. His hand reached up your legs and dipped below the comforter. That fucking scrap of fabric was obstructing his view, but Copia understood exactly what was going on, especially when your hips started bucking in response. He was fondling your body as he played with your clit, biting his lip and molesting you as you slept. Your body clearly wanted it, though, given how willingly your legs parted and your hips chased the pleasure. When your eyes fluttered open, so achingly innocent Copia wanted to bite you, again there was a flash of fear behind your eyes before you became soothed at Swiss’ face. He was smiling, a devilish grin that would no doubt make even Copia quake in his boots, but you, still sporting bandages and unable to make full expressions, were staring at him, daring him to take it further. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, but instead you pointed up at the camera, and for a brief moment, Copia felt his heart fall out of his ass as both you and Swiss were looking directly at him. Neither of you knew Copia was there, of course. At that time, no one was. But it didn’t stop Copia from feeling like he’d just been caught by you both with his cock in his hand and said hand rubbing it vigorously, like a horny teenager who’d peered into the girl’s locker rooms.

Swiss took the comforter and pulled it off your body, folding it haphazardly over the foot of the bed and exposing your pretty, little cunt to the room. Given the camera was positioned to your right and in the corner of the room, he couldn’t see everything he wanted to see, but he got a glimpse of your labia parting as Swiss’ fat fingers spread them to access your cunt. His fingers entered you, and wasted no time stretching you open for him. Copia watched your body jiggle helplessly beneath the wrath of his hands, and how little Swiss cared for your hands grappling onto him and holding on for dear life. Copia’s hand once again matched Swiss’ tempo, and found himself coming to the edge far quicker than he wanted, but he just couldn’t stop himself.

Ashamedly, Copia came before he could even finish the second video. Your face was contorted in absolute agony as Swiss pushed into you and fucked you hard without giving you a moment’s rest to recover and get used to his size. Copia’s cum landed on his screen, splattering all over your pixelated face as a fucked up cum tribute. Copia wondered how your face would look covered in his cum in real life, and that almost got his cock standing on edge again. The guilt settled in soon after, but not as much as it did the first time he came to you. This time because your consent was all over these encounters. You let Swiss fuck you now, legs spread for him willingly and screams no doubt wanton for his cock. You let him maneuver your body in ways benefiting the security camera. You nodded, and cursed, and screamed out your consent as Swiss played with you. His only guilt now was that you didn’t know he was watching you.

Yet, he downloaded each and every single one of those videos (there were seven in total, one of each day of your time in the infirmary), and each one a varying degree of fucked up with you in a varying state of healed. In one of those videos, Swiss had just decided to stick his dick inside you as you slept, and you had no idea he was even there until he’d been gone thirty minutes and you felt his cum oozing out of you. Copia watched you use Swiss’ cum as lube and masturbate for hours, cumming four times just with your fingers and glistening with both his release and your own. If he wasn’t such an old man, he’d have joined you in your multiple orgasms. Alas, though his cock was very much interested, his body would have no more of it today.

A day didn’t go by where he’d load up one of the security camera videos and jerk off in his office. By the end of the two weeks you’d been out of the infirmary, and when you’d recovered enough to return to your duties, he’d replayed each of the videos several times. It was like he was addicted, choosing only those videos. When he’d decided to quit them, for fear that his actions and attitudes would change towards you, he’d become unbearably miserable and frustrated with everyone and everything. Everyone noticed the difference, and even gave him a wide berth, just in case he snapped or shouted, something he never used to do. It got to the point where those videos became a necessity, and he hated himself for it. He would continue to hate himself twice a day or a week further before the inevitable happened.

All that time spent with his hand on his cock in his office meant that one day, a knock would come mid-stroke, and he’d be forced to conduct a meeting with a raging boner. It happened, and as he scrambled to close the video and cover his modesty, you walked through the door. Satan, he wanted to pounce on you. Despite all you’d been through the previous month, your demeanour had barely changed. In order to appear respectful to your superiors, you still crept through the door with wide, innocent eyes, body closing in on itself in shyness and submission. Before, he thought this was endearing - telling of your sweet personality. Now, it made him want to rip your clothes off you, bury himself inside you, and take you until you were screaming his name, and shaking beneath him. His cock twitched when you made eye contact with him, and spoke in a soft voice, “You wanted to see me, Papa?”

He did? Fuck - he did! How could he forget he sent one of his ghouls to find you this morning? He needed to know what to do about Swiss - although, the CCTV footage of your infirmary room told him all he needed to know. You didn’t know that he knew, and so he had to at least keep up appearances. “Yes, tesoro.” He gestured to the sofa in front of his desk. “Please, sit.” You sat so prettily on his sofa, making sure your habit was draped in such a way that preserved any modesty you may have had. It all seemed like a viscous facade now. He knew who you truly were when you were naked and vulnerable. “How is your recovery?”

There was still a faint bruise on your jaw from the assault, but otherwise it looked like you were almost completely healed. You confirmed as much in your response, finalising it with a sincere, “thank you.” Those two syllables felt like punches to his gut. ‘Thank you, Papa, for caring about me, and worrying about me. I appreciate you.’ Meanwhile, he used one of the most traumatic experiences of your life as his masturbation material and betrayed your trust twice daily.

“Are you starting therapy now?”

You nodded. “I’ve only had two sessions so far, but she’s already helping me work through things.”

Copia nodded. “That is excellent news, tesoro. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, Papa. And, I wanted to say thank you for saving me back then. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to tell you, but I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t have come when you did.”

He swallowed, the guilt eating him alive as his mind showed him your face as it came around Swiss’ cock - the first time he’d seen it. His posture changed, allowing his right hand to naturally rest on his thigh, before travelling true north and beginning to rub over his clothed bulge as subtly as he could manage. “Please, do not thank me. I only have your safety and wellbeing at heart.” Fucking liar. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“Even still, thank you.”

“It is actually why I wanted to see you today. I wanted you to be strong enough to have this conversation with me. Swiss committed a vile sin, even one Sathanas cannot support. As you know, He is all for depravity but only when all are happy with said depravity. He needs to be punished - let the punishment fit the crime. I wanted you to decide the punishment, as you were the victim in all of this. How do you think we should punish him, tesoro? No limits, what you say goes.”

As expected, the look on your face was made up of stunned silence. Your eyes widened in fear. You didn’t want Swiss to be punished. You’d already forgiven him. The look on your face had his hand applying pressure to his cock. Fuck, you had no right looking this sinful. “I don’t want him to be punished, Papa.” You said quietly.

“But, tesoro… he-”

“I know. But he didn’t, did he? He was possessed. And you sent the demon back to Hell, right? I think that’s punishment enough. Let our Dark Lord punish the demon for his crimes and have him suffer for eternity in the pits of Hell.”

“Well, no punishment will be given to Swiss, if that’s what you ask. I must say, this is highly irregular. A testament to your kindness, I suppose. How do you feel about Swiss?” He was skirting dangerous territory now, but he couldn’t help himself. He wondered if he could use your trust in himself against you, and have you admit to sleeping with Swiss. Copia didn’t know what he’d do if he heard those words fall from your mouth, but he poked and prodded nonetheless. “Would you be comfortable being around him again?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Copia raised his brows in fake surprise. “You truly are incredible, tesoro. After everything? I’m in awe of you. I’m surprised to hear that. Perhaps we can start with - eh - supervised socialising until you’re used to seeing him again.”

You nodded in response, eyes to the ground and refusing to make eye contact. You were shifty. You were withholding the truth. You were obvious about it.

“Tesoro?” He asked, allowing his voice to be just a fraction sterner than usual. “Is something wrong?”

“No, Papa.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at me?” There was silence for a moment. “You’ve already seen him, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

Copia deliberately sighed. “Well, you are a grown adult, tesoro. I cannot stop you from seeing anyone you do not wish to. But you should know I disapprove. He could still have been dangerous to you. I couldn’t bear it if he hurt you again.” There was silence again. “What are you not telling me, Sister?”

“I- Please don’t be disappointed in me, Papa.”

“I could never be disappointed in you. Please, tell your Papa what’s troubling you.”

The flood gates opened. You were desperate to share the information with someone. Clearly, you’d not been doing so with your therapist. You confessed to everything, how Swiss came to you when you first woke up, how he’d fucked you every day since. Not that you used such explicit words. He’d taken advantage of your nervousness and lack of eye contact, and had gotten more and more brazen with the movement of his hand over his cock, openly masturbating now beneath his desk. He didn’t expect you to look up - he didn’t think you would. But as you were talking, you glanced at him every now and again, so quickly he missed every one. Until your talking had slowed and a soft, “Papa?” Fell from your lips. Your eyes were now fixated on his hand, a hint of betrayal glistening in them. Copia didn’t stop now - he couldn’t. The look on your face had travelled straight to his cock, and now he was going to take this opportunity to take you. “You already knew that I’d seen Swiss, didn’t you?”

“Sì.”

You swallowed. “H-how?” By this point you’d stood from the sofa.

“I think you know.”

“You saw…?”

“Every one.”

You turned your back to him, hand over your mouth and tears of humiliation threatening to spill. The second you saw the camera, you should have refused Swiss. But the thrill was too much and you couldn’t say no. You also couldn’t lie and say you felt completely and utterly betrayed by your Papa - because while you were, and had every right to be, you also felt heat pooling between your legs at the thought of Copia watching every single time Swiss was inside you.

You didn’t hear Copia stand or approach you. You only knew he was there when you felt him press up against you, hands snaking round your waist and pulling you towards him. Any piece of you that he could get his hands on, he did so: gripping your thighs, stomach, breasts. His chin rested on your shoulder, lips mere centimetres from your ear as he spoke. “Perhaps there are other ways to work through your thoughts, hm? Do you want that? You know, for all I saw, I didn’t hear much of anything. That first night in the infirmary, what did he say to you, tesoro? What did he say that made you part your legs so willingly, so soon?”

“H-he…” You felt Copia remove your veil, pulling it to the floor and exposing your hair.

“Go on?” He urged as his hands began to unbutton your habit. They were moving sinfully slow, almost painfully so. It was as if he were dragging this out on purpose just to spite you, or drive you insane. Perhaps both were true.

“He told me that he was sorry.” Copia had dipped his hands beneath the shoulders of your outfit and dragged it down your body to pool at your feet, his lips immediately attaching themselves to your near-naked shoulder. If it wasn’t for that infernal bra strap, he’d have you completely bare for him. “He told me that he felt bad for what he did.”

“And that’s all you need, Sister? An apology has you spreading your legs for any man who offers one?”

“No! He-” You bit your lip, now feeling his hands unclasp your bra, one hook at a time. “He told me that he felt guilty for finding it so hot. But that he…” Your bra fell to the floor and you swallowed.

“Keep going.”

“He couldn’t stop touching himself to the thought of it.”

Copia groaned behind you, his teeth grazing your delicate skin. His gloved hands moved up to your nipples and began to pull and play with them, rolling them through his index finger and thumb. His hard cock rubbed gently against your clothed ass, showing you just how desperate he’d become.

“He’s a talker, isn’t he?”

You nodded.

“Tell me, tesoro. What else did that filthy mouth of his tell you? What got you so riled up for you to let him fuck you in your hospital bed?”

One of his hands released your nipple and gently traced the curves of your stomach all the way down to your panties. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband, and immediately went in search of your clit. He needed no map to find it, it as as if he already knew your body and how it worked - perhaps it was all the videos he watched of his ghoul doing the exact same thing to you. He worked your clit in gentle circles to begin with, fully content on just teasing you until he got the information he wanted out of you. You released a soft moan in response, reaching your left arm behind you to grip onto his greying hair. Your right hand clutched at his wrist, and held on tightly as he continued his assault - an assault you welcomed with open arms.

“Papa!” You whispered. “I can’t.”

He tutted. “She’s getting bashful on me now, no? Seems a bit late for false modesty when I watched your cunt get spread on a camera. You can and you will. What did he say to you?”

Though his voice never raised, it did become more stern. It didn’t feel as though he’d take no for an answer. Just like Asmodeus, he would use you with or without your willingness being present. Unlike with Asmodeus, you knew Copia would stop if you really asked him to. He could be an asshole sometimes, but he wasn’t a monster. You didn’t want to tell him no. That night unlocked something in you that at first you’d only thought about doing again with Swiss, but now with Papa willing to give you what you wanted, it turned out you wanted this again, over and over until you were some kind of brainless toy.

Copia pinched your clit between his fingers when you were taking too long. “I won’t ask again, Sorella.”

“Fuck!” You screamed. It was painful, of course it was, but your scream was oozing with pleasure, just like it was when Copia had walked in on Asmodeus taking you. “He loved how wet I got! He - fuck, Papa! - He loved me c-creaming on his cock. He loved hearing me cry out for him, and begging for him to-”

“To what?” Copia’s finger now rubbed in circles, faster and with a lot more pressure. “Say it!”

You were talking much faster than before, the words spilling from your mouth before you could even process them. “He want to hear me beg him to fuck me over and over. Wanted to turn me into his toy. Get me pregnant. Papa, please!”

He bit your ear softly. “Did you enjoy it, tesoro? That night with the demon? Did you love it?”

“Mmmmm fuck! Not at first! He - shit - hurt me. But then it - it felt good towards the end.”

“How many times did you cum?”

“I d-don’t remember. Maybe twice?”

Copia groaned again. “Puttana.”

Your hips were bucking wildly, chasing a high that Copia was right on the precipise of giving you. You were so close. You needed it. “I’m gonna cum! Papa! Papa!”

“Cum all over your Papa’s fingers like a common fucking whore, that’s it!”

The dam broke and the floodwaters emerged, your orgasm hitting you like a ten-tonne truck and tensing your body from head to toe. Those very toes were now curling into the rug, your fingers tightening in his hair causing him to let out his own screams. You had no idea what your body was doing, and the fact that you were yelling throughout the entirety of your orgasm, howling like a banshee as tears fell from your eyes at the intensity of it all.

“On your back on the floor.” Copia instructed.

You did as you were told, lying your bare back against the plush of the rug. Copia’s face crumpled at the sight, though. He wanted you on the wood. So, he nudged you with his shoe to get your attention, shook his head and pointed to where he wanted you. You obliged, and spread your legs as soon as the cold shock had dissipated from your body.

“You get off on this, don’t you?” He said, removing his robes and reaching for his zipper. “On being used and manhandled against your will.”

You nodded.

“Is that why you let Swiss use you every fucking day, eh? Are you trying to relive it?”

You hesitated for a moment too long, and Copia took that as confirmation. He chuckled darkly, unzipping his jeans and removing his cock from its confines, finally letting it breathe after you almost catching him at the beginning. “Do you know what, tesoro?” He began to position himself above you, lining up with your sopping heat and rubbing himself against your clit. Your fingernails dug into the floor at the oversensitivity that had now begun to set in, your heart racing with anticipation. He pulled your hips closer to him, having you partly resting on his thighs, immaturely laughing a little at the sound your body made as it was dragged against the floor. “I got off on it too.”

He delighted in the way your eyes lit up with so many emotions, before finally allowing your face to contort with the pleasure of him pushing his cock inside you. There was lust in your eye, of course, remembering how you made eye contact with Papa as you reached your second orgasm that night. You remembered the last thoughts that raced around your head before you blacked out. Now that you’re thinking about it, you remembered seeing a primal look in Copia’s eyes underneath his concern, and the thought made you tighten around Copia’s cock that had begun slamming into you, after deeming you ready enough.

“Swiss was feral for you afterwards,” he told you, eyes fixated on your cunt as it squeezed him, “we had to restrain him with multiple gargoyles because he was going to go back in for a second turn.”

“Fuck, Papa!”

“And now I see why - cazzo!” A string of Italian fell from his lips that you couldn’t quite understand. But it didn’t matter, the thought of Swiss fighting against the Ministry’s protectors in order to get inside you a second time had set your body alight - the primal need to satiate his hunger now ingrained in your mind for the rest of time. You allowed loud moans to fall from your lips as the angle Copia fucked you at had his cock hitting your g-spot each time. “His - his cum… and your blood - fuck! - I wanted to taste it then see how my cum would look mingling with both of you. If I wasn’t surrounded by the clergy, I might have had my fill there and then too.”

You bit your lip and gripped onto his strong arms, those arms and hands grasping onto your hips for leverage as he roughly fucked into you, getting deeper and deeper to now have his tip hit your cervix and his shaft rub constantly against that sweet spot. You were losing your mind, mewling out for Papa as he took you on his office floor. “You sh-should have anyway!” You mumbled through your moans.

Copia’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah? You wanted me to fuck you in the ritual room with the clergy watching? Fucking Jezebel. You always seemed so sweet, Sister. Who knew you were so filthy? Is that why you agreed to the ritual in the first place, tesoro? You like it when people watch?”

“Yes!”

At this revelation, Copia began to thrust harder. This wasn’t usually a turn on for him - in fact, he’d never really thought much about it before - but the idea that you would get off on it had him harder than he ever had been in his life. He wondered how far it would go - if you imagined the other members of the clergy joining in in some capacity. How many of them could you have taken before it became too much? How many before you woke up? What about when you were awake? How would you react knowing that all the clergy members were touching themselves in a circle around you as Copia railed you for a ritual? Would you willingly open your mouth for them? Would you let them cum on you? Had you done this before? Was this a revelation that was new to you after Asmodeus? Copia’s mind was racing with questions and possibilities.

His mind snapped out of its musings to watch you beneath him, taking his cock to the hilt and loving every second of it. It felt so good, your mouth was hanging open and drool was slipping from the corners. Your eyes rolled back, eyebrows furrowed and sweat glistening over your body. You were so wet, creaming on Copia’s dick and he watched the strings of your juices pull and snap with his movements. With every passing second, every thrust, he understood why Swiss couldn’t get enough of you, why Asmodeus fought tooth and claw to get inside you again. Copia would be inside you every single day if you let him. He wanted to watch you bounce off his cock every day, watch your body jiggle at the force of his thrusts, how your tits jerked while his cock ravaged your insides. The way your ass ricocheted off the ground each time he moved had him damn near feral for you. You resorted him down to his animalistic instincts, his primal urges. He just wanted to bite you as he fucked you, mark you, claim you, show the world that you were his.

He wondered how Swiss would react to finding marks on you that didn’t belong to him. He imagined Swiss getting angry - he shouldn’t but he did. Fucking you within an inch of your life, bruising your body in multiple ways while he was deep inside you, reminding you that you belonged to him. Sathanas, he wished he could strip you bare and uncover Swiss’ artwork on you, and add more of his own. It was fucked up but he needed it and so, without much thought, he lifted your leg, bent himself over you and bit wherever he could reach, painfully biting and sucking hickeys onto your body. You screamed with the onslaught, your own fingernails and hands digging into his flesh and leaving marks of your own. But, after the third bite, you let go with one hand and began to furiously rub at your clit, relishing the pain and fucking yourself to a second orgasm, and shaking with the force of it. You tightened impossibly around Copia’s cock, forcing him to rest while you finished yourself off. But Copia wasn’t done with you. Not even the slightest bit. “On your stomach, tesoro.”

Your eyes widened a little, a small inch of panic setting in. “What?”

“Stomach. Now.”

“Copia…”

The use of his name hit him like a punch to the gut. “What’s wrong?” He said, his voice dripping with concern, not an ounce of lust in his eyes anymore. He noticed. He was taking it seriously.

“Please not my stomach.” He wasn’t there for the first half of your torment - he didn’t see what Asmodeus did to you. You wanted to explain why, but you couldn’t find the words. But Copia seemed to understand immediately.

He nodded, “Of course, tesoro. D-do you want to stop?” He asked the question almost like an afterthought, but it came to him nonetheless.

“No. Please.”

“Please what?”

“I-”

“We can go as dark or as soft as you like, amore. Please what? Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Take what you need. Use me, Papa. Please.” You said, your voice tapering off to a desperate whimper.

Copia groaned, a visceral, gutteral sound. “Spawn of Satan, begging me to use her like a fucking toy, eh? As you wish, tesoro. Take my fucking cock. It’s what you were made for, right?” He dropped your hips dramatically, kind of showing you now that he had no interest in making you feel good now. It was all about him from this point onwards, and you were going to know about it. He positioned himself above you, completely trapping you beneath him now, and began to slam into you so hard, your body moved across the floor each time. Grunts and groans were ripped from your throat involuntarily, spilling your truth into his ears whether you liked it or not - the helpless feeling had you wrapping around him like a vice, and refusing to loosen the grip.

“Gonna fuck this cunt every day.” He continued, muttering mostly to himself. “Might keep you in my chambers, spread out and ready for me to use at any point.” You tightened. “Or better yet, keep you naked and tied to my desk so I can use this hole when I’m stressed. You want that, hm?”

“Yes, Papa!”

“Tell me.”

“I want t-to be your toy! I want you to use me every day. I want your cock inside me every day. Please, Papa!”

“Such a good slut for me. Swiss trained this cunt well, didn’t he?”

“Yes! Made me ready to please my Papa whenever he wants me. Trained me to take all of Papa’s cum and not spill a drop.”

“Filthy whore. Take my fucking cum. T-take it all. Merda! Cum- cumming!”

Copia’s groan filled the room much louder than any of your moans ever did, drowning out the sound of his hips slapping against your wetness over and over again. His thrusts became more and more erratic until he eventually stilled inside you, completely emptying his balls and filling you to the brim. He felt so good inside you, like you were made to take him. He stayed inside you for a little while before pulling out and removing himself from your body, and that was when you felt it.

All of the helplessness from before returned the moment Copia stopped touching you, and you realised just how vulnerable you’d allowed yourself to be with someone other than Swiss. Tears began to fall, and wracked sobs took over your body as you lay naked on his floor, an ache beginning to form in your core as you tucked your body in on itself. Copia, who was putting himself back together, immediately dropped his robe and dropped back to his knees, enveloping you in a tight hug and pulling you close to him, allowing you to hide your face in his chest. “I got you, schricchio.” He said, bringing back the pet name that you loved. The ultimate comfort nickname. “You’re safe. I got you.” He rocked you back and forth, shushing you gently and rubbing your skin. “I got you.” He let you cry. You obviously needed to.

With Swiss, it all felt different because he was just as tormented as you were. His body was assaulted too, and despite his body being in the dominant role, he had no control and no way to stop it. The guilt ate him alive when he wasn’t inside you - when you weren’t begging him for it. But Copia? Copia was your boss - the head of your church - a man who you’d spent the better part of a decade trusting and loving. You’d never let him see you like this before, never let him catch you being weak and powerless. You saw that despite the nature of your coming together, you could still trust him. He still cared deeply about you and your emotional needs. When you almost told him to stop, he would have, and in fact, he almost did.

“I’m sorry for being too rough with you.” He told you. “I’m sorry for starting this.”

“No.” You said through tears. “I liked it.”

“No, schricchio. I took advantage. I’m sorry.”

He let go of you just for a brief second to grab his robe, and wrap you up in it, trying to warm you up as soon as he heard your teeth chattering. It was the adrenaline wearing off, he knew that, but still he wanted to do everything he could to comfort you after that. “Thank you.” You whispered through tears.

“I want you to listen to me, okay? No one is ever going to do any of that to you again without your consent first. I should have protected you better the first time, ___. I’ll do better in the future.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours, either. And I’m here if you want anything. A talk, a distraction, a friend.”

You sniffed. “Were you serious about locking me up in your chambers and having your wicked way with me?”

He chuckled. “Why are you interested?”

“I might be.”

“We’ll see. For now, lie on my sofa. I’ll get you cleaned up soon, but for now get some rest, schricchio.”

He helped you off the floor and led you to the plush couch you sat on before. He sat on the floor while you got comfortable and held your hand as you began to drift off to sleep. All the while, his thumbs rubbed against your skin, and every now and then, you felt a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. You were safe with him. You always would be.

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monstersandbrothers · 10 days

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okay genuinely asking bc i’ve been out of the spn fandom for soooooo long. do newbie wincesties know about invisible boy + two headed boy by dollylux??? like are those fics still in the zeitgeist? bc when i was in the fandom 8-10 years ago it was all anyone ever talked about. it was gospel. it informed EVERYTHING anyone ever believed about pre-series sam&dean. u could reference any scene in them and all the wincest folk would know exactly what you were talking about. imo those fics are THE REASON pre-series feels so rich and real and fully developed. permanently life-altering. permanently fandom altering. their influence cannot be overstated.

please tell me new fans if you’ve read these. and if u haven’t………….no more posting on tumblr dot com until you have. that’s an order!

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #samdean #wincest #wincest fics #heritage spn fics #dollylux

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snowfll · 3 months

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Then could I req a Lamina x capitol mentor reader fic where Reader is mentoring Lamina and after she wins she meets up with Reader again before she leaves. Lamina breaks down in readers arms from the guilt and etc with reader just comforting her (need some good hurt/comfort in my life rn) Thank you so much and take care! Feel free to take your time! - N

Promise?; Lamina

pairing - Lamina x Mentor!reader summary - Winning the 10th annual hunger games was not an easy task for Lamina, but you were there by her side through it all. Now, she had to go home—what is she going to do without you? words - 2.63 k warning- fluff! none! note - omg I'm actually in love with this, thank you so much for requesting it! It took longer to write than I expected, so I made it a little longer to make up for the wait! I hope you like, and please request more for Lamina—I'm so in love with her.

The news of becoming a mentor for the tenth annual Hunger Games struck you with a mix of frustration and resentment. The idea of relying on someone from the districts to secure your future in the Capitol was a bitter pill to swallow. The prize money, your lifeline for advancement, now hinges on the performance of a tribute.

Navigating the elite world of the Capitol Academy as a student from a less privileged background presented its own set of challenges. How you were accepted into the academy in the first place was a mystery in itself. Nonetheless, you were grateful for the opportunity you were given.

Your peers labeled you as ‘the quiet girl’ originating from your passion to read, in stark contrast to those who reveled in the social scene. The lack of wealth and connections meant you were an outsider, perceived as a freak in the prestigious academy.

Your peer’s disinterest in associating with you was mutual, creating an unspoken understanding of separation. While they indulged in weekend partying, you found comfort in the pages of books.

Despite the social divide, your academic expertise demanded recognition. Being one of the top students forced your peers to acknowledge your presence, meaning they had to tolerate you, and you had to tolerate them.

As the reaping day unfolded, the air hung heavy with anticipation. The news of a difference in this year's Plinth Prize reached you beforehand, a piece of information that carried weight beyond the customary tributes’ selection.

Sejanus Plinth, the one person who genuinely liked you, became a crucial ally in navigating the intricacies of the Capitol. Bonding over shared backgrounds that Capitol elites despised, your connection with Sejanus transcended the superficial norms of the academy. In a world where trust was a rare find, the two of you became close, sharing your hopes and fears.

Sejanus’s decision to disclose the altered details spoke volumes about the depth of your friendship. He recognized your deserving nature and understood the potential setback this change could inflict on your aspirations. Leaving you in the dust was not an option for him.

Before Dean Highbottom assigned the tributes to everyone, you told yourself you wouldn’t help whoever you got—they were district after all, and they certainly weren’t worthy of your assistance. The most you would do was introduce yourself and help whenever there were cameras on you. It’s what your fellow peers said they were going to do, so it must have been the correct way to go about being a mentor.

However, the moment you saw Lamina on the screen, your entire world flipped. Her tear-streaked face and heavy breathing elicited an unexpected wave of pity. In that moment, the stark contrast between her vulnerability and the impending games overwhelmed you.

The realization struck—Lamina, in your eyes, didn’t deserve the grim fate that awaited her. It became evident that, compared to her district partner, Lamina seemed unprepared and unfit for the brutal challenges that lay ahead.

Lamina looked to be around the age of sixteen or seventeen, only a year or two younger than you. You didn’t want to help her—you told yourself you wouldn’t. As you sat contemplating in the aftermath of the reaping, thoughts swirled about how you could protect Lamina in the arena. Perhaps, against all your odds, your guidance could be the key to helping Lamina navigate the perilous games and emerge alive.

In the hushed days following the reaping, a quiet anticipation enveloped you. The impending arrival of the tributes heightened the tension. During the limited time since Lamina became your responsibility, you delved into research and strategized different ways to keep her alive.

You weren’t excited about the games, not one bit, but you wanted to do anything in your power to help her. Unbeknownst to yourself, genuine care for her well-being had taken root, eclipsing the initial distant image you projected.

As soon as you heard the news of the tributes being held at the Capitol Zoo, you rushed out of class. Coriolanus had already met his tribute, having leapt into the van upon their arrival. It was only fair that you were able to visit your tribute as well.

Walking out of the classroom without a care in the world, you made your way to the home of the tributes. Dean Highbottom’s stern voice echoed after you, demanding your return to the classroom. Ignoring his calls, you pressed on towards the zoo with the determination to meet Lamina.

Arriving at the Capitol Zoo, you found Lamina sitting amidst the rocky surroundings, her spirit somehow untouched by the harshness that surrounded her. Despite the misery etched on her face, there was a quiet grace and a fragile beauty that persisted through the pain and suffering.

As you approached the caged area, Lamina looked up, her curious eyes meeting yours. Her tear-streaked face seemed to soften in response to your arrival; a subtle smile graced her lips—you couldn’t help but smile seeing the girl in a happier mood. The quiet grace she emanated amidst the harsh environment hinted at a resilience that intrigued you. How could one look so elegant while being held in a zoo enclosure?

“Lamina?” you began cautiously. She stood up, approaching you with a lingering smile. Her district partner accompanied her, pulling her back while sharing hushed words in her ear. He cast a protective glance your way as Lamina whispered back, loud enough for you to hear. “It’s okay, Treech. She seems friendly.”

You offered a small, reassuring smile to both of them, attempting to convey trustworthiness. Lamina, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty, broke the brief silence, asking, “Are you my mentor?”

You nodded, affirming her question. “Yes, I’m going to help you in any way I can," you assured, hoping to instill a sense of comfort in the midst of the uncertainty that lay ahead.

“Promise?” Lamina asked, her gaze filled with hope as she searched for reassurance.

You met her eyes with sincerity; the weight of the promise was reflected in your response. “I promise, Lamina. I will get you out of this.”

Throughout her time in the Capitol, you found yourself making frequent visits to Lamina. There was no specific reason or agenda—your visits were driven solely by the desire to be in her presence. Though many mentors faked their appearance with their tributes, your intentions were clear; you wanted to offer comfort and support during the challenging moments she faced.

As the day in the arena unfolded, you discovered the depth of your feelings for Lamina. Watching as Treech, her district partner, left her on her own so he could join Coral’s pack, a surge of emotions welled up within you.

As Lamina looked heartbroken in the aftermath of Treech’s departure, a strong desire to cheer her up consumed you. The genuine care you felt for her welled up, surpassing the boundaries of a mentorship.

Unable to stand idly by, you pulled Lamina into your body, embracing her in a reassuring hug. “You’ll be okay, Lamina,” you whispered in her ear. “You don’t need him. You are strong on your own, and I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe in the arena.”

Lamina, though initially surprised, gradually eased into the embrace. “Thank you,” she said, her voice carrying a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

A few minutes later, a deafening explosion echoed through the arena, accompanied by screams that sent shivers down your spine. In an instant, instinct kicked in, and your first thought was to shield Lamina from the impending danger.

Without a second thought, you covered her with your own body; any concern for your own safety was overcome with a protective instinct. The echoes of chaos surrounded you as the bomb wreaked havoc, but in the moment, your sole focus was on keeping Lamina safe.

Amidst the falling debris, Lamina’s voice quivered. “What’s happening?”

“Keep your head low,” you urged, your own voice steady despite the turmoil. “We’ll be okay. Just stay close, Lamina.”

As you brought Lamina closer to the entrance, she clung onto you, fear and reluctance present in her eyes. She didn’t want to leave your side, finding a sense of security in your presence amidst the chaos. However, as you moved, two peacekeepers approached, their authoritative presence demanding compliance.

Lamina tightened her grip, and you tried to reassure her, “It’ll be okay, Lamina. I’ll meet you straight away; just let them get you to safety.” Despite your attempt to ease her worries, the peacekeepers intervened, firmly grabbing her. Lamina, reluctant to be separated, cast a desperate look back at you, silently pleading for you to stay with her.

After the tumultuous events in the arena, you found solace in spending every moment of the day with Lamina. Your connection had deepened, transcending the confines of mentorship. In the aftermath of the chaos, your presence became a source of comfort for her, and you, too, found a sense of purpose in being by her side.

Whether it was strategizing for the challenge ahead, offering words of encouragement, or simply sharing quiet moments, the atmosphere shift was clear as day, the tension of the arena replaced by moments of connection. As you exchanged playful banter, the laughter flowed effortlessly.

“You know, I think you might be the best thing that happened to me.” As you teased Lamina, a playful glint in your eyes, you continued, “In a place like this, finding something good is like stumbling upon a rare gem. And I have to say, you’re my gem, Lamina.”

She chuckled softly, a blush tinting her cheeks. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

You smiled, the sincerity in your gaze matching the warmth in your words. “We might be the first pair to turn the Capitol’s Hunger Games into a love story.”

“Well, isn’t that a plot twist?” She responded, her eyes meeting yours with a smirk on her face.

As the banter continued, a subtle shift occurred. The teasing smiles transformed into something deeper—an unspoken connection sparking between you. Lamina, with a hint of vulnerability, admitted, “When my name was reaped, I never expected to find something like this.”

You leaned in, the distance between you shrinking as you whispered, “Sometimes, unexpected things are the best things.” The words lingered in the air, your eyes glancing down at her lips before making their way back to meet her eyes.

In the charged atmosphere, Lamina closed the gap, her lips meeting yours through the bars of the enclosure. The kiss went on longer than expected, and you smiled into it, realizing neither one of you was willing to let go first.

When you finally pulled apart, the smiles remained, and your forehead naturally rested against Lamina’s. The unspoken emotions hung in the air, a promise of companionship and shared determination.

“Now, there’s no chance I’m letting you die in that arena,” you declared, the gravity of the statement stained with a newfound depth of connection between you and Lamina.

In the face of the challenges and dangers within the arena, you remained true to your promise. You didn't let Lamina face the grim fate that awaited her. Through strategic planning, shared determination, and unwavering support, you guided her to victory.

As the final moments unfolded and Lamina emerged as the victor, a sense of relief and accomplishment swept over both of you. For you, it wasn’t the Plinth Prize that made you so cheery—in fact, you forgot about the award. You simply needed her alive; her survival was enough for you.

As Lamina prepared to return home, there was an assortment of emotions—relief, gratitude, and a subtle touch of unworthiness. As you sat together, there was a shared understanding that transcended words. The bond formed within the games had become a defining chapter in both of your lives.

You held each other’s gaze, silent acknowledgment passing between you. In that quiet moment, you watched as Lamina struggled with her feelings. Her face wore a sad expression, and you couldn’t help but share in her sorrow. Despite the triumph of winning and surviving the Hunger Games, there was a weight on Lamina’s shoulders that overshadowed the expected joy.

“Hey,” you spoke gently, breaking the silence between you and Lamina. “What’s wrong, honey?” The concern in your voice mirrored the empathy in your eyes as you observed the gloom etched on her face.

Lamina hesitated for a moment, her eyes meeting yours, before she finally sighed. “I should be happy, right? I won. I survived, but..." Her voice trailed off, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on hers. “Surviving the games doesn’t mean you have to be happy all the time. It’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” The sincerity in your question enticed her to share the burden of emotions that seemed to weigh on her.

She hesitated before opening up even more. “I don’t deserve this—to have won, to live while the others are gone.” She paused, taking a breath, allowing her to continue her rant. “Treech, he did what he needed to do to survive—leaving me was good on his part, and he still didn’t make it. Why was I the one to make it out alive? It doesn’t make any sense.”

You squeezed her hand gently, offering a reassuring smile. “Winning is a tremendous accomplishment, but it doesn’t erase the challenges or the pain. It’s okay to feel a range of emotions, Lamina.”

Lamina went on to go into detail about the events that occurred in the arena—especially the ones you didn’t witness. How she had to kill multiple tributes to ensure her safety. How after the first few kills, she felt like she couldn’t stop.

“I’m so scared of losing all control, like I did in the arena." She told you through sobs, the fear of losing control, of becoming someone unrecognizable, was etched in her eyes.

You listened empathetically, recognizing the weight of the survivor’s guilt that burdened her. The aftermath of the Hunger Games had left her grappling with the harsh reality of loss and the difficult choices made for survival.

“What happened doesn’t define you," you assured her. “You were thrust into an unimaginable situation, forced to make choices for survival. It’s natural to feel scared, but remember, you’re not alone. I may not be with you in the districts, but I will always be there for you in spirit.”

As your words sank in, Lamina’s tears flowed even more freely. Through her tears, she choked out, “What am I gonna do without you near me?”

You reached out to gently wipe her tears away, your own eyes reflecting the pain of the impending separation. “Lamina, you are stronger than you think. You’ve already faced the worst. I will visit as much as the Capitol allows me; this isn’t goodbye,” you reassured her, your voice carrying a mixture of determination and comfort.

“Promise?”

“I promise. You can’t get rid of me that easily, honey.”

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not-poignant · 7 months

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OMG, I literally found your Astarion/Raphael fic yesterday, desperately looking for something like it. So happy someone else had the same brain worms as me XD

I was wondering if I could pick your brain a bit about what kind of direction you think you will take the fic? I was wondering if you had any plans in your head or if you are just following the vibes so to speak.

Especially with Raphael being in the pairing, I wondered if this is more of a "It turns out they are actually good for each other" kind of thing or more of a "Astarion has to find out what his life is going to be now/get over some things and Raphael will enjoy every second of making him squirm" kind of thing.

In any case, I am looking forward to reading more, thank you :)

Hi hi,

So I guess answering this would kind of be talking about really end-game spoilers, but I also don't have a plan for this story beyond Astarion/Raphael, and 'hopeful ending.'

(I mean I do have more than that, I just don't know how much of that I want to reveal at this stage, when it's only chapter 5, and this story could easily be over 40 chapters long - there's a lot of potential for change and growth that could alter the trajectory of the relationship in a lot of different directions.'

What I will say is that:

I do not consider Astarion giving into a regular non-consensual situation and just accepting it and making painful peace with it, a hopeful ending type situation. Agency is important to me in my characters. Even if he one day decides to voluntarily submit to scenes he doesn't love - that would at least be a choice. Anything done while under contract with difficult consequences will not be where the hopeful ending happens.

It's an Astarion/Raphael story, therefore the hopeful ending will be an Astarion/Raphael ending. That's just how my brain works. It will not be a 'they break up and THAT'S why it's hopeful.' However, the end may not have a conventional looking relationship. And I've written unconventional endings in relationships before (like Stuck on the Puzzle)

For me, a hopeful ending (as opposed to a happy ending) means that we have to have confidence in the idea that Astarion's life will continue to improve and get better even after the story has ended. There's now enough evidence that he has enough enrichment and potentially for happiness in his life, that he won't downward spiral like he has in the same way again. This means he needs - more support, more healing, healthier avenues for communication even if the relationship isn't healthy overall all the time/every second, and some pretty big personal realisations about what he wants in life. Hopeful ending is both 'better than where we found him, but also genuinely, when most people think on the last chapter, they think 'he's got some ways to go in healing, but I really think he's/they're going to be okay'' not just physically, but also emotionally, spiritually, mentally.

Those are the things I'm happy to reveal because that's how I feel about almost all of my hopeful endings. That's what that means to me.

I do think Raphael and Astarion can actually be good for each other, but I think we're missing huge pieces of the puzzle as to why that's true. Because we're missing so much of Raphael's post-death story, because he's deliberately hiding it.

But we'll find out more soon. At some point, High Inquisitor Verillius Receptor will visit, and then we'll find out a lot more, lol.

(Also yeah this story will be long, easily I suspect around 150k in length as a baseline - we're on an emotional journey folks! Sometimes the growth will be healthy, sometimes it'll be negative, we're going in all the directions lmao).

#asks and answers #palmarosa #thespectaclesofthor #raphael x astarion #astarion x raphael #bg3 raphael #bg3 astarion #hopeful ending #hopeful endings #a hopeful ending isn't unequivocally happy #we know he'll still have trauma #maybe he'll even still have grief about things in his life #(of course he will - his life is fucking tragic and running from it constantly isn't great for him)#it's not like 'marriage and kids' and kind of stereotypical happiness #it's more like a sigh of relief #and a feeling of confidence and trust #if i can get those feelings in the readers #like 'oh wow we made it oh he's on such a good path now'#that's the aim #and frankly i don't think any ending where astarion has been brainwashed #into being a happy captive #is a hopeful ending for astarion #even if raphael *is* kinder to him #freedom/agency matter sdaflkfjas #especially for astarion #but he will spend most of the fic under contract

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colgatebluemintygel · 1 month

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hi hi hi!!! first and foremost: how are you?? hope everything is fine! everytime I see the little notification of you posting pop, i need to come and just see

this ask is just to tell you, after reading that you considered at one point not finishing OAO, that even it being one of my favourite fanfics (I really love your writing), i had made my peace with it bcs it would have been your choice. but, the day you said you were working on it again?? well, i was so so so happy and excited and i (and many of us) would wait as long as necessary to read the ending of it!

so, if you are gonna finish it, take as much time as you need. we'll be waiting💞

eeeeeep anon i know it has been a hot minute since you sent this but well .. i think you are just so sweet <333

i tend to dodge around q's of abandoning oao , mostly bc i think they're funny (some of u have never been hurt by a fic that has been abandoned for 10+ years and it shows ... stupid post it notes by dirty angel toes .. you will be complete one day .... manifesting works !!!!!!) , but if i am being completely serious and sincere i don't think leaving oao unfinished will ever be on the table 4 me . sometimes i get a little crazy around my period n such and consider deleting my ao3 account but it's just temporary insanity and it always passes once i've sniffed my cat's fur and had some chocolate. the only time where i had genuinely considered not finishing it was at a time when i was very affected by the things ppl would say and a weird or rogue comment would throw me off for days. i'd just seen a less than kind vid the #1 evil site and cried in the shower for hours until my beloved em maybebabyplease gave me some very tender n gentle love and talked me down from a minor crisis O:-))) anyway all of this is to say. genuinely i think i would have to sustain a life-altering injury and lose all brain function to really truly consider abandoning oao. they are sooo firmly rooted in my brain it is insane. they have made a home there and they are not leaving any time soon (everyone say thank you oao!s.. my stubborn angel!!!)

the reason why it can take me an age to get chapters out is because i care a whole lot and sometimes it takes me a while to find the right words for them .. i love them so so dearly and i prommy it is just as important to me to see oao to the end as it is for yall :^)))) even thinking abt the final scene gahh my tummy hurts !!!!! love them so bad ....

anywho /end rant. UR CUTE <3333

#oao #pigeon post

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sequinsmile-x · 4 months

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Waiting Room - Chapter 4

Everything had changed so quickly, her life torn out from under her in a matter of seconds, the trajectory of what it would look like going forward permanently altered.

Emily's life changes forever when her parents are killed. Aaron just needs a job after his marriage breaks down and he answers an ad for a private security guard. If only the young woman he'd been hired to look after wasn't entirely resistant to his presence.

A Young Hotchniss AU

-x-

Hi friends!!

I am genuinely blown away by the reaction to this fic - thank you so so much!! I really hope you like this chapter, and as always please let me know what you think!

Final chapter will be up in the next day or so!

-x-

Warnings: Full list of warnings on the Master List

Words: 3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“I’m bored.”

Aaron smiles as he looks at her across the table, raising his eyebrow at her, “We’ve been here 20 minutes. And you’re the one who wanted to come here to study.”

She groans, leaning back in her chair, “Because I thought if I spent any more time in the home office I’d go insane,” she scrunches her nose up, “The security cam feeds annoy me.”

His smile only gets wider, her distaste for the security cameras, and the televisions set up in the office that had once been her father's, something she had made very clear, “Really? You never mentioned it.”

She glares at him playfully and shakes her head, her eyes drifting back down to her books in front of her, “Careful, otherwise I might get too into all of this studying and not have any time for personal fun later.”

He smirks, “Please sweetheart, you’re incorrigible,” he says, leaning in closer his hand just skimming past hers, a satisfied smile flitting across his face as she shivers from the barely their touch, “You enjoy the personal fun just as much as I do.”

She laughs and shakes her head, her mouth open to respond, but she’s stopped, frozen in place as her eyes meet familiar ones across the library, icy blue and stark.

Eyes that had haunted her for years.

Everything disappears. The smell of Aaron’s cologne and the old books on the table between them is replaced with gunfire and the metallic scent of blood. She clenches her fists, hoping that the feel of her nails digging into her palms will bring her back to herself, but it doesn’t. She goes numb, fear spreading through her blood like ice, freezing her from the inside out.

“Em?”

She jumps as Aaron touches her hand, pulling her back to herself, forcing a shuddering breath from her lungs. She blinks, and the man is gone, disappearing behind the other people walking around the library. It’s overwhelming, everything loud as her senses kick back in, her chest full of fear, making it hard to breathe.

“We need to go.” She breathes out, standing up, her hands shaking as she gathers her books and laptop.

Any concern that Aaron may have had when he saw her freeze, a type of fear in her eyes he’d only seen once when she’d woken up from a nightmare on the night that changed their relationship forever, increases when he sees how panicked she is. He stands up and stops her frantic movements, his hands on her shoulders as he forces her to look at him.

“What’s going on?” He asks, cupping her cheek, his thumb delicate against her skin. She swallows thickly and bites her lip, looking around to see if anyone is watching them and she shakes her head.

“Can we please just go?” She asks desperately, a tension in her voice he doesn’t think he’s ever heard before, “I’ll tell you in the car.”

He fights against all his instincts as he nods, briefly looking around them as he tries to figure out what she’s seen, “Okay,” he says, smiling softly at her as he leans forward and kisses her forehead, “I’ll pack this up for you.”

She flashes him a smile and steps closer to him, not wanting any space between them as he finishes packing up her bag for her. She’s grateful that he moves quickly, swinging her bag over his shoulder as he leads her out of the library, crowding her against his side, the tension in her body still evident.

She’s in the car the second he unlocks it, sinking into the passenger seat as she tries to breathe, her hand pressed firmly against her sternum as she tries to calm herself down, her eyes screwed closed. She doesn’t even hear the door open as Aaron climbs in, only aware he’s joined her when he places his hand on her thigh, the familiar weight of his palm enough to calm her just a little.

“I saw him in the library,” she says, clearing her throat as her voice shakes.

“Who?” He asks, squeezing her leg, “Who did you see?”

She opens her eyes and looks at him, grateful when he doesn’t acknowledge the tear that slips down her cheek.

“The man who killed my parents.”

___

Aaron calls Derek the moment they make it back to the house.

Emily is on edge, her thumbnail in between her teeth when Derek arrives to talk to them. His familiarity with Aaron makes her curious as Aaron leads them all to the living room.

“I had the tech team look at CCTV from the library, and cross-matched it with images from the night your parents were killed,” Derek says as he sits down opposite them, his eyes fixed on how Emily grabs Aaron’s hand, something she does without thinking. He pulls a picture out of his pocket and slips it over the coffee table between them, and her eyes go wide, “We believe this is the man you saw in the library today?”

Emily nods, her heart in her stomach as she stares at the photo, “Yes, that’s him.”

“This name is Ian Doyle,” Derek says, and she looks back up at him, furrowing her brows as he carries on explaining, as if he hadn’t just given her the name of the man who had haunted her dreams for years, “He’s a mid-level dealer in illegal weapons,” Derek looks back and forth between Emily and Aaron, “Our conclusion right now is that your parents were targeted because of their stance on tightening gun laws.”

“There were two men there that night,” Emily says, biting the inside of her cheek, “What about the other guy?”

“He was likely one of Doyle’s men,” Derek answers, “He rarely works alone.”

Aaron glances at Emily, his heart aching at the look on her face, the devastation painted across her features as if her old wounds had just been torn open, a cavity in her abdomen as she struggled to breathe.

“How did no one ever put it together before?” Aaron asks, looking over at Derek, his thumb skating back and forth over the heel of Emily’s hand, “And what about the flowers?”

“I’ve checked his file,” Derek says, shrugging, “He’s got a flair for the dramatic, likes to taunt victims and family members,” he sighs, “And nothing sticks to this guy. Officially, according to records, he wasn’t even in the country when your parents were shot,” he looks at Aaron, “It’s helpful to have had the head start from when you called a few weeks ago, it means we could get ahead of this.”

Aaron’s breath catches in his throat as Emily tenses next to him, her gaze burning into the side of his face as she turns to look at him. He clears his throat and stands up, offering his hand out to Derek, “Thank you for coming to explain everything, Derek, I’ll call if anything else happens.”

Derek narrows his eyes curiously at the sudden change in atmosphere, his friend’s clear attempt to get rid of him quickly, but then he sees the look on Emily’s face, the barely contained fury, and he stands up, shaking Aaron’s hand.

“I’ll check in tomorrow,” he says, smiling tightly at his friend before he leaves the sound of the front door closing a few seconds later echoes throughout the house.

Aaron stands still, his back to Emily, as the silence around them becomes suffocating. It’s only a few seconds before she speaks, but it feels like a lifetime.

“What did he mean when he said you called a few weeks ago?”

He turns to look at her and he sighs at the look on her face, her eyes hard in a way they hadn’t been since they first met. He steps towards her, ready to sit next to her again, but she stands up, her arms crossed over her chest as she puts space between them.

“I…” he drifts off, clearing his throat as he tries to gather himself, still blown away by her ability to fluster him in a way no one else had ever been able to do so before, “I asked him to look into your parent’s case a few weeks ago,” he says, clenching his hands at his sides so he doesn’t reach out for her, something he’s sure will make this worse, “I was just trying to help.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she says, not fully understanding the anger burning her from the inside out, the betrayal making her skin itch, “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Nothing to do with me…” he says, scoffing as he trails off, shaking his head as he steps closer, “Emily, you’re stuck in place. Frozen. You told me yourself you feel like you’re still in that goddamn alley. I was trying to help as your-”

“As my what?” She asks, cutting him off fiercely, “My fuck buddy? My employee? The guy who was hired to stop this exact thing from happening.”

He feels fury bubbling in his stomach at how she degrades whatever it was they had between them, “Don’t do that. It’s more than that, and you know it.”

She shakes her head at him, stepping closer and pointing at him, her finger so close it comes into contact with his chest, “You don’t get to make these decisions for me,” she says, clenching her teeth, “I’ve spent my whole life having people make decisions for me,” she scoffs and shakes her head, “Dave even hired you without talking to me,” she presses her lips together and shakes her head, “I trusted you.”

She leaves before he can say anything else, running up the stairs to her bedroom, ignoring him as he calls after her. She locks her bedroom door behind her, hoping he’ll take it as a hint to leave her alone. She sits on the edge of the bed and leans forward, her elbows on her knees as she blows out a breath, painful as it shudders out of her chest.

“Damn it,” she mutters to herself, wiping tears from her cheeks as she shakes her head. Everything had gone south so quickly, her life once again torn out from under her just as she was back on even footing.

She sits there until the sun sets, listening as Aaron walks around the house, finally heading into a room she knows is the home office, the squeak of the door an immediate giveaway. She gets changed for bed, her pjyamas and everything smelling like Aaron, the scent of him seemingly imprinted on everything.

She hugs the pillow that had become his to her chest, burying her face in it, hoping it can trick her brain into letting her relax enough to sleep, something she hadn’t done without him by her side since that first night.

___

She wakes up to the sound of a gunshot.

At first, she thinks she’s dreaming, that she was on the tail-end of a nightmare she’d had so many times it had almost become comforting, an old friend she wasn’t sure what she’d do without.

She hadn’t slept well. She was frustratingly used to Aaron sleeping next to her, to his warm and heavy arm over her as he curled behind her, his broad chest to her back. He’d made her feel safe for the first time in years and it had nothing to do with what he’d been hired for. She was still angry at him, furious about what felt like a violation of her trust, but she also knew he was a good man. He’d proven himself time and time again in the time she’d known him.

Anything he did, however misguided, she knew he did it for her.

She’s thinking about seeking him out. About going to his room, sneaking into bed next to him and falling back asleep. She could figure out the rest in the morning, think about what to say to him, how to move forward with this complicated thing they’d built around themselves.

She hears a crash down the hall, the sound of glass hitting the ground, forcing her to sit up in bed.

She thinks of the gunshot again, how it had sounded different to normal. The usual echo as it reverberated around the alley missing, the grunt of her father as he was hit - the last sound he ever made.

She hadn’t been dreaming. Someone was in the house.

She scrambles out of bed, any last remnants of sleep immediately pushed away. She all but stumbles to the door and she stops, giving herself a moment to breathe in, to try and calm herself so she can stay as quiet as possible.

Her hand doesn’t shake as she reaches for the door handle, a sense of determination she hadn’t felt in years sparking under her skin, the feeling of irritation that someone was doing this, that they were still doing this to her, overtaking any fear. She slips out of her room and keeps close to the wall in the hallway, grateful for once that her parents had chosen solid dark colours throughout the house, creating shadows that were her friends for once, not her captors.

She presses herself against the wall tightly when she hears footsteps receding, getting quieter as they move away. They weren’t Aaron’s familiar ones and fear climbs up her throat again before she swallows it back down.

She needed to make it to Aaron’s room.

She doesn’t make it there.

She covers her mouth to smother a gasp as she turns the corner, the sight of Aaron crumpled on the ground in front of the home office making her freeze in place. He was clutching his side, the blood on the floor next to him visible even in the low light. She walks over as quickly as she can without making much noise, settling on the ground next to him, her hand gentle on his cheek. She’s grateful when she can see he’s breathing, albeit laboured, and she smiles shakily at him when he looks at her.

“He’s here,” he says, his voice ragged, rough as he tries to hide how much pain he’s in, his breath catching in his chest, his entire body on fire. “I saw him on the cameras,” he says, an apology edging into his voice and she shakes her head, shushing him, “I tried to-”

“It’s okay,” she says, smiling in a way she hopes is reassuring, “Can you stand up?”

He shakes his head, and he barely hides a grunt as he reaches for his gun, pressing it into her hand, “I told him your room is on the other side of the house I bought you some time but not much. You have to go.”

She frowns, furrowing her brow together as she shakes her head, “No, I can’t leave you here.”

He places his hand over hers on his cheek, squeezing tightly, “You have to. I can’t move, or at least not in a way that wouldn’t slow you down-”

“Aaron-”

“Go,” he says firmly, his hand tight around hers, “The police are on the way, I tripped the silent alarm. Just get out of here, sweetheart. And take the gun,” he offers her a half smile, “Good thing I taught you how to shoot.”

She hates it. She doesn’t want to leave him here, not when he was hurt, his blood sticky on the ground beneath her knees, glueing her pyjama pants to her skin. She’s going to argue with him again, tell him they can get him out, that she’d carry him down the damn stairs if she had to, but then she hears a noise down the hall and he squeezes her hand tightly, with more strength that she thought he’d have, and she knows she has to go. She looks at him, her lips pressed together as everything she’d spent months not knowing how to say lodges itself in her chest. For a moment she almost says it, almost lets the three words she’d been denying were true for weeks free, but she stops herself.

She’d tell him later. When they were both safe.

She leans forward and stamps a fierce kiss against his lips, smiling tightly when she pulls back just enough to rest her forehead against his, “Don’t die on me. I’d be really pissed.”

He huffs out a chuckle and it hurts, makes his entire body seize as she shushes him. He nods, “I’ll do my best,” he says, not wanting to make a promise he can’t keep. He smiles at her, leaning forward to stamp a kiss against her lips so he stops himself from saying he loves her, knowing now wasn’t the time, and then he pulls back, “Go.”

She nods and she stands up, her grasp tight on the gun he’d pressed into her hand as she walks away as quietly as she can. He nods at her when she looks back, a look on his face that he hopes is reassuring before she disappears from view.

The house is quiet as he sits there, his palm sticky with his own blood as every breath feels like a knife to his chest. A repeated blow that taunted him, stole the breath from his lungs. All he can hear is his own laboured breathing, his attempts to hear anything else failing.

He starts to feel sleepy, his eyes drifting shut as the edges of his vision start to blur, his head fuzzy as he fails to shake it off. He’s about to give in, the pull of sleep too strong to ignore, but then he’s pulled out of it by a single gunshot that rings throughout the house.

-x-

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yahoodarling · 2 months

Text

Yandere Thoma/Ayato X Isekaied GN Reader

Warnings: Posted in comments to avoid spoilers, please read them if you wish to avoid potential triggers.

Chapter 2: 6k+- words, Chapter 3

Full Fic option: 20k words

The words Ayato left with you clung to your mind, in all this time interacting with ‘characters’ you haven't once seen anything alter the course of the world yet. Perhaps it's a twisted Butterfly effect and your actions have changed something you cannot see but Teyvat was still intact and no news of a newly declared war has come about (for whatever reasons your actions may potentially had started a war in the first place). Perhaps the time of paranoia can finally come to an end and you can ‘live' a little, truly live here if it means spending the rest of your life in this world. You also owe it to Thoma. You've done everything in your power to avoid him when he's done nothing less but show genuine interest in getting closer to you and with Ayato's words you can confirm that you've hurt him. In your time knowing him, truly knowing him, not as a character reading lines of script, not as a collection of pixels on a screen but as a real person with flesh and feelings, it's really made you appreciate him more than anything one could feel for a fictional character. Thoma is not fictional in this world and in this world he looked to you for a friendship, you lead him on in your weakness and now he has to face the loss because of your choices. Ayato was right, you truly don't have the right to make this decision but the least you can do is make up for your mistakes and keep your promises. Teyvat isn't going to fall apart just because you want a friend, what led you to think you could change the fate of the universe in the first place? Fate is a strong thing, it will not break so easily just because you exist. The rest of the ‘plot’ will go on as normal, the ‘hero’ is most likely still in Sumeru sorting out their issues and that ‘hero’ can go on and change Teyvats fate, you can sit still, live a normal life and they can keep the story going.

You decide the best way to apologise is to show Thoma you genuinely care and the best way to do that, (other than actually talking to him) is to do what he's already established means a lot to him, make something. Thoma loves to see the effort people put into something much more than the actual execution of it. You are hardly a master baker yet he savours what you bake like it's been done by a professional, so play to your strengths. You finish your work day, inform your boss you will no longer be taking the overtime and rest for the day. Not wanting to rush into things too quickly you wait a few days and in your spare time make a batch of miso butter cookies and a simple fresh loaf of shokupan on the day you decide to meet him. It being a weekend you were off work but that also meant Thoma wouldn't be in the city, he does his trips here only during the week when he needs specific supplies for his upkeep of the clans residence. Taking a walk to the Kamisato Clan is quite the walk but you owe it to him to get this done, he can't be the one to keep chasing after you, you need to show you want to be close as well.

You arrive midday, the walls of the clan still so daunting, and walk to the entrance where the clans guards await, noticing your presence long before you could actually stand before them.

“Good day, I am here to deliver something to Thoma.”

The guard eyes you but responds, “He's out. If you have any deliveries you can leave them here where they will be checked before entering the clan.”

Thoma isn't here? Shit. That makes this whole thing a bust.

“Do you know where he's gone or when he'll come back? I'd prefer to see him in person.”

“No. Please leave any packages here and-” the guard was cut off as the man of the house walked up to the entrance, Ayato offered a slight smile, perhaps to ease your nerves at the guard's menacing stance though that is his job, before turning to said guard.

“They are a guest and are welcome to the clan. Thank you for serving your duties but they are free to enter.”

The guard bowed and uttered a small, “Yes my lord.”

Ayato then stood to the side to allow you in, his arm outstretching the direction in welcoming.

“Ayaka and I were just having tea in the break of our schedules. Please do join us.”

Well it seems you will be meeting Ayaka (for the second time), not expected, not something you were prepared for but if you are to truly let go of your worries then meeting Ayaka should not be a problem.

You follow suit and see Ayaka sitting at the table on the outside courtyard , she smiled in greeting as you and Ayato approached.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Ayaka Kamisato.” she nodded in greeting. It's a little difficult to respond to people such as Ayaka and Ayato whom are so versed in proper Inazumaian etiquette but you've been in Inazuma for long enough to have picked up some things. You bow slightly in turn, “A pleasure as well Lady Ayaka, thank you for welcoming me to your home.” You responded in a similar way when first meeting Ayato though you imagine conversing with him from now on would be a lot more relaxed after your previous meetings. Said man indicated for you to sit beside his sister which you did, form a lot less refined compared to the pair of siblings.

“Ayaka, this is the person Thoma has been talking about as of late. A new friend to the Kamisato Clan.”

“Oh! It's truly wonderful to put a face to a name. Thoma has spoken only positives about you. What brings you here?”

You look down to the wooden box in your hand, your apology gift.

“I need to speak with Thoma and give him something.”

You don't even need to look at Ayato to know that he's fully aware of what your meeting with Thoma is all about.

“I see. He's gone out for a walk at the moment but should be back soon. Anyway,” it felt like ice drawn at the blunt way she changed the topic. She quickly turned back to Ayato, more specifically the paper in her hands, with a look of true delight on her face.

“The travellers' tales of Sumeru are incredible! Such a different place but the stories they are embarking on are memorising.” her eyes had a sheen to them, not the gloss of tears but of something you couldn't exactly tell what it embodied.

“Their letter details so much, the food, the culture, the people as well as all the situations they've ended up in.” she giggles, lifting her hand to cover her joy but not truly caring about it since she was in such comfortable company which is… odd considering you just met.

Ayato looks at you with a quick strained smile, almost to say, ‘sorry she's overlooking you’ but quickly returned to paying his attention to Ayaka.

“I am not surprised they often find themself in trouble haha though it is good to know they are enjoying their time there. Do they mention when they may return to Inazuma?”

Ayaka looks slightly dejected at that, “No. They say they need to stay in Sumeru for now but will come to the next major festival if they can.” she takes a deep breath in and releases it. “I hope it's soon. I want to hear all these stories from their mouth rather than just as words on a page.”

So Ayaka also has that ‘crush’ on the traveller which was very heavily implied in the game. That must be the reason she is so relaxed and open with her emotions here.

She looked back down at the letter, a soft smile developing. “I hear Yoimiya is planning on taking a trip to Sumeru in the future, perhaps I can ask her to deliver a token from me to the traveller while she is there.”

Ayato's smile remained as always listening to his sister but the small crinkle of the wrinkles by his eyes increased slightly for but a moment before relaxing. His wrinkles… a pity the game models of the characters didn't implement small details such as those. It would have been interesting to see what small features the characters had ‘realistically’ that weren't shown. Would Jean have bags around her eyes? Would Albedos skin have a slight difference of texture than normal? Perhaps Cyno has a more defined tan or Xiangling having slight burn blisters on her hands from cooking and her vision? You've only had a closer look at Thoma and he was so much more ‘real’ than just a 2D image which was slightly unsettling at first but normal now. What interesting things to think about…

“How about you join her?”

Your fascination died instantly. What? No, Ayaka will NOT be joining Yoimiya, that's not how it goes. Ayaka will deny or something will stop her.

“Really? But what of my responsibilities? I don't even know if she'd accept me joining.”

Exactly.

“Do not fret, I will have your duties covered and Yoiymiya is your friend, I think she'd appreciate getting to share the trip with you. You deserve a break as well and I see no better opportunity than this.”

No, no, no, no you won't because she's not going.

Ayaka stood up, elation beaming off of her while she clutched the letter closer to her.

“Thank you brother! Oh I must ask Yoimiya right away!”

She bowed and made haste out the residence not even sparing you a glance, to her you were a nobody. Her mind was solely on making this trip.

You sat in shock, in the past her forgetting about you would be amazing, proof of your ‘npcness’ but you only felt stunned. Ayaka doesn't go to Sumeru, only Yoiymiya does for her second story quest, Ayaka is not involved, Ayaka does not show up, Ayaka is not part of that plot!

“I'm glad she can have a chance to experience the world outside the residence though having to cover for her duties will prove tedious.” Ayato shook his head, then chuckled. “But I'm not opposed to it for this.”

Just how- how has your involvement changed this?! It must be your fault, it can only be your fault, the story has gone on exactly as it was shown in the game so why is this different? What could you have done to make Ayaka go?

“Hmm?” Ayato noticed your silence, “Is something the matter?”

You swallow the spit that had accumulated in your mouth and regained as much composure as possible. “Yes yes I am fine I just- I just need to go have a quick walk by myself. I will be back soon.” It's all you could say. Your mind switched to autodrive in shock and walked you away, neither mind nor eyes truly focusing on anything but your legs walking you a path you've taken many times before yet never once stepped on, into the forests behind the clan house.

Walking in the tanuki filled forest may not have been the best idea, you recall ingame how Hilichurls and Fatui mages are ‘spawned’ here yet your walk was nothing but peaceful. The sound of the stream was somewhat calming, it helped you to think logically. Just because Ayaka says she's going to go on this trip doesn't mean she actually will, something will happen that will prohibit her from going to Sumeru. She is a very important character, her absence in Inazuma may cause something terrible to happen that didn't ingame. Maybe she helps a person in need ‘canonically’ but because in this existence she leaves for Sumeru she isn't there to save said person, that person dies or many people die which could upset their families which could cause them to lose faith in the (police) which could lead to disrupt in the city which could… which could… leave blood spilt?

You stopped your rambling thoughts, eyes zoning in on the pools of blood on the moss covered stones. Whatever caused this is nothing you should get involved in, until a sound of a strangled hiss, electro energy popping and fizzing in the air, a shriek of vengeance and then… nothing. The sound came from further ahead to the right behind a large mound, you watch to see the source, feet ready to run away as the slightest threat. Footsteps sounded and around the bend came a semi dirt covered Thoma, looking ahead with a solemn expression, seemingly dazed. His chest huffed out periodic breaths of air to regain himself and latestly wiped off his brow and took out a cloth and dabbed at the specks of blood on his clothes and arms, while doing so he turned and saw you standing motionless, eyes awide and still in semi shock. Almost instantly devastation fell upon his face, his eyes sunk in immediate sadness, he just looked at you for a second, whatever his thoughts were were his own, before quickly putting the cloth away and rushed to step towards you.

“Please just- i'm just doing my duty, I don't mean-, i'm not…” the more he tried to justify himself the more he seemed to sink into his own hole.

“I know this looks bad, you are the last person I'd want to see me like this but-” he took a deep breath in, steeled himself to elaborate properly, “it's to protect the clan. Fatui spies, rogue samurai, rival clans, a lot of them come here to spy on the clan or put us at risk, i'm just doing my duty and protecting the people who protect me.” he looked at you earnestly, hoping for your understanding, hoping you don't see him as a murderer, hoping to retrain the image of an amicable person but his soft smile of a plea also held the acceptance that you may not acknowledge his reasonings, that you'd turn your back and leave.

You do understand, you do know Thoma isn't a harmless friendly face, that he can and will do what must be done for the people he cares about, it's just that… it's a little hard to easily be calmed even with that notion when the very real blood and remains of that dedication is shown spewed across the forests floor, it's not something any ‘average’ person would not react to but still, this is Thoma, he has his reasons, it was done in the name of goodwill and he's trying to explain it to you.

You take a few steps towards him and offer a hesitant smile, “I get it, I don't see you as any less than before.”

Before you even regain your senses properly you feel his arms around you, tight and secure, his hand cupping the back of your head and hiding his face in your shoulder, so desperate to have the reassurance that it's okay but still hesitant to look at you, like you may change your mind.

“Thank you… archons above I was worried I've scared you. My word, that's the last thing I'd want…” she shook his head slightly, took one last deep breath and moved back up, his hands grasping your shoulders lightly, you could see his face up close now and he finally allowed himself to look at you, his face held a smile. “I am so happy to see you!” the heavy atmosphere diminished as Thomas usual radiance shone, “Haha, what are you doing here? It's been ages, the last place I thought I'd see you was all the way here.”

“Oh yeah, I actually came to apologise about that, about being distant. It wasn't right of me to just cut you off, I'm sorry.”

He stayed silent, only looking at you, his eyes softened and nose wrinkled in his genuine expression of embrace. “Dont worry about it, I was clingy, I'm just glad to know you are here now. I'm really happy about that.” he chuckled and shifted his weight to point you back up the path to the Kamisato residence.

“Let's go catch up shall we?”

On the walk back up you explained to Thoma your ‘reason’ for avoiding him (your half lie, half truth reason), the same one you told Ayato. You are shy and get intimidated by how social he is. Thoma nodded at your explanation, expressed his apologies for not noticing your discomfort and promised from now on he'll be more aware when you are together and not encourage meeting with others you aren't comfortable with. The walk was nice, a bit strained because of the topic but after all the knots had been loosened it felt good to be relaxed with him again.

You two entered the Yashiro court again, Ayato still sat at the table reading through some papers. Thoma turned to you, “Oh sorry, meeting with Ayato was one of the things that made you uncomfortable right? We could go somewhere else to catch up?”

“No it's alright, I met with him earlier when I arrived. I told him I'd return so it would be rude not to haha.”

The noise must have alerted said man, Ayato peaked his head up and greeted the both of you with a smile as you walked towards him and sat down.

“The both of you have returned safely from your walks then, it's good to see. How was it?”

Thoma hesitantly chuckled, “Haha, came across some trouble but nothing I can't iron out. Otherwise we just had a little talk.”

Ayato nodded and hummed.

You remember your carrier box filled with the apology gifts for Thoma and opened it.

“Thoma, I made some more biscuits and bread and wanted to give them to you, to further state my apology.”

“oh? Perfect then, we can have them with tea.” Ayato must have had someone refill the teapot while you were away as Thoma poured you both cups of steamed golden liquid and refilled Ayatos. Thoma took a biscuit and devoured it in delight, did he always over exaggerate when eating the things you baked or was his reaction authentic?

“Ayato, would you like one? They really are divine.”

“No thank you. It would be wrong of me to strip you of your joy haha.”

It was odd but so welcoming to be able to have a casual conversation with the two. It seemed easy to get lost in Thomas stories, he seemed fully invested in everything he spoke of and when listening he truly captured every word. Ayato, though not as vocal as Thoma when he did speak his words were like a maze you'd have to do a small mental puzzle to understand if they were a wise response or a guileful remark coming from his teasing nature. Though harder to understand, Ayato's words were still a welcoming part of the conversation as the three of you went on to drink and share.

Ayato shuffled his papers, putting them to the side, even on his supposed break he was reading through documents, Thoma hummed, took a quick look around then returned his gaze on Ayato.

“Where is Lady Ayaka? I thought you two were having this tea break to discuss something.”

Oh wait… Ayaka…

“Yes, she received a letter from the traveller today and was eager to share it, haha she truly is fascinated with that adventurer. She's not here at the moment however, she's gone to speak with Yoimiya. She says Yoimiya will be taking a trip to Sumeru in the future and has gone to ask if she may join.”

“Oh that's wonderful!-” Thoma hesitated, “Oh but doesn't she have some important meetings lined up these coming months with the shrine? There were those exchanges that need to be made, some deliberations about the upcoming festivals… as supportive as I am about her going on a trip, it doesn't seem doable with just how much is installed for these next 3 or 4 months.”

Oh Thoma you are truly a blessing, not only are you a true friend but you reestablished that the ‘plot’ wont change. You mouth a soundless thanks to him.

Ayato hummed and tapped his quill* rhythmically on the table. “That is true but I want Ayaka to enjoy her years and not only focus herself on clan affairs, this trip is a good first opportunity to see the world outside Inazuma and with Yoiymiya as her travel partner I do not doubt they will have a good time. As for the workload-” Ayato reached over to the paper stack and shifted through them, “I was busying myself with planning and rearranging the meetings and visits she had in the time I expect her departure will be. It is more work but it will be rewarding, you'll see.”

Thoma seemed confused, it seemed from the look on his face he was doing the same as you when it comes to Ayato's words, figuring out the puzzle but if there was an underlying meaning to his words you didn't detect them, Ayato was simply stating facts and expectations yet Thomas silence ment he was looking for more than just that. Whatever mental games Thoma was tackling he must have failed, he chuckled and melted back into his relaxed self.

“I'm glad then, it will be good for her.”

No… no this isn't right. There will be something, something will stop her from going, there must be.

“mhm, I only await to hear back from her and her meet with Yoiymiya, I don't see any reason why she would decline.”

Yoiymiya will decline, she will, she must.

“oh? Are you okay?” Ayato looks at you in concern, he puts his quill* down and gives you his full attention.

“Is something the matter? Whatever it is, I am sure we can address it.”

“No, no its okay I just realised- I had some serious stuff to do for work which i've forgotten.”

Ayato's face turns to mock surprise, you know he didn't believe you but he doesn't comment on it, Thoma does the same but you can detect the small quiver of his smile in disappointment that you are leaving so soon.

“Oh dear! Do you need help getting back home?”

“no no, i'll be fine thank you” you rush to stand up and then smile down to the two. “Thank you for today but I must go. Enjoy your afternoon.” you rush pleasantries and are out the gate before the two could press you further on your actions.

You've done it again, you came here to try to fix things but you've just made a mess. You can try to fix it tomorrow, for now the more pressing thoughts of the potential Sumeru trip Ayaka will go on drowned out any other thoughts. You walk home rushed, the long walk not helping much to ease your nerves, you can only hope fate will prevail and Ayaka will stay in Inazuma.

Ayato and Thoma sat in silence as you left, mutual understanding of the odd nature of your departure yet not wanting to address it.

“So… your ‘walk’ was fruitful then?”

“Just a few stray Hilichurls and a Fatui mage but it's been sorted.”

“Thoma, you know securing the perimeter is not part of your duties, you needn't lie about the reasoning for going out.”

Thoma did not respond.

Ayato breathed in deeply, “I am not opposed to you going out to release your emotions but I worry you may get caught up in them only to further feed into your obsessions.”

“I'm not obsessed! I'm just-” he grit his teeth in his own turmoil, “I don't want to label these feelings as ‘obsession’, that wouldn't be right to them. I don't know, I still don't know. When they stopped talking to me it felt like I'd lose them forever, that everyday I don’t see them with my own eyes is a day that they may disappear and I know that sounds obsessive but… but I don't want to call it that. I just don't…”

Ayato soaked up his friend's words like a sponge and as always his responses were either clear or muddled with undertone, this time Thoma could tell instantly Ayato's words were transparent.

“You need not worry yourself about labelling your feelings then, you two are back in contact and there is still a future for you to explore what the emotions you are holding mean. Just do not lose sight of your health and those around you, even obsession can be tamed. “

The next few months were both easier and harder than the times you were avoiding Thoma. Sure, you lessened your workload and your health improved, you stayed in contact with Thoma, not as much as before but still enough to bond over. It was good to have a friend again and the feeling was mutual, every time you did meet he seemed eager to enjoy it to its fullest. You had even met with Ayato a few more times, never to the extent of Thoma but at least it became comfortable to sit and have tea with the both of them in a relaxed manner but that was the positives, the looming threat of Ayaka changing the plot was a heavy cloud always looming. The few occasions she saw you she was cordial and respectful but her interest glossed right over like you didn't even exist. She and Yoimiya made plans, fulfilled the work she could and now here you stand on the beach you woke up on exactly 2 years ago, 2 years since you randomly came to be here in Teyvat, the same day fate was changed and both Yoimiya and Ayaka were set sail for Sumeru.

In blunt terms, youve fucked up. This was pure proof of your paranoia, this was proof your existence can cause the plot to change and the realisation of just how helpless you are in this situation dawned on you. The very act of your existence, whether you interact with those deemed ‘special’ or not, can and will change the story and you can only wonder if it will end well or if you've led something to doom.

It's not fair, it's not fair at all. Even though you've been friendly with Thoma recently it's not like you can truly confide in him and he's just a painful reminder of your mistakes. The burden of wearing this responsibility, one you didn't even know how to fulfil, one you failed to fulfil, it's unfair. You are only human, you have needs to fulfil and ‘dying’ isn't one of them…

But

But is it moral to be so selfish as to care about your own being when putting the risk of others on the line? Ayaka is gone from Inazuma, just how many people was she meant to interact with if she stayed? How will her presence in Sumeru affect the story? If you guess right the ‘hero' should be done with the main quest of Sumeru if it means Yoimiyas story quest can start but what if something happens that prohibits the plot for future stories? What of Ayakas presence delays the ‘hero’, even for a minute, in which that minute was originally meant for something in the greater scheme of things?

This is awful… this isn't right. Not only has living become so difficult because of the constant nagging of anxieties and worries but you also have the potential to be responsible for disaster simply by existing.

It isn't right… it isn't right you afflict this world with your existence and the threat it brings.

Two years ago when you awoke on this beach you hoped to retain a normal life, perhaps find a way back home but at the very least, set up a life for yourself, an npc life but at least something. It's only fitting that you felt you had to come here, to kneel in the sand and watch how its granules slip through your fingers, it's because you exist that this sand is moving… it's only fitting that you finally come to the conclusion that you must die while being here. This is the place of your ‘birth’ into this world, perhaps it can be the place of your death as well. Not ‘death’, not some convoluted meaning of ‘dying' and becoming a new person, no you need to die. You need to die to ensure the people of Teyvat can remain on course. You are the virus here, you are the disease you need… you need to die.

Tears ran down your cheeks at such a resolute statement, sure youve thought about it all but now and truly you've decided that this is it, that you must do this. It's not like you want to die, not on a personal scale, but on a mental and emotional scale all this is too much, too much to bear and too much to live through.

It's not fair to leave the people you've so selfishly afflicted with your presence without giving them a reason but you are too much of a coward to tell it to their face. It wouldnt go well if you were to stand infront of Thoma and tell him you were going to kill yourself, thats for sure but at the very least he could get some form of an explanation.

You decide tonight is not the night you die, that would be tomorrow, you stand up from the ground and walk home, the weight of your choice still as raw as the moment you decide it, death is no light matter after all.

You get home, a small space a person like yourself could afford, only the basics of furniture and 2 rooms. There under your door lay a letter, you pick it up and sit at your table where unblemished paper sat to become future suicide notes. Taking a look at the letter it was sealed in wax, the crest of the Kamisato Clan dug into its mass.

You open it,

‘Dearist XXXX

May this letter find you well. Both Thoma and myself wish to invite you for a stay at the Kamisato Clan as both a guest and a friend. The changing season brings a beautiful opportunity to witness it first hand as the trees take on their new hues and the oceans change their tides, you are welcomed to join us. Thoma sends his best wishes but asks for them to properly be said in person rather than in post. We eagerly await your response.

Signed

Ayato’

Haha… how casual for a man like him… haha… haha here you are preparing to write letters announcing your death to them and yet they think only of including you in their lives. Haha… how horrible, how utterly vile it is to be able to experience emotions such as these. These feelings only prove your point more. You put the letter to the side and stared blankly at the response you are going to reply with, oh of only it were as optimistic and welcoming as theirs was.

You tried to make it easy for both yourself and those intended to read it. You state that the mistakes of your past have lay heavy on you and that death is the only relief, that you are sorry you cannot return the sentiment of friendship and must lay your mistakes to rest.

To Thoma you leave a more personal note, telling him that he made your life here in Inazuma so much better, that it was only in the moments with him you forgot your ‘mistakes’ for even a moment and for that you are grateful. It's true, it's only Thoma who made you forget the fact you don't belong here when you spend time with him. Sending this letter to him is assured to rip his heart, he sees you as a friend and he's going to beat himself at the thought that he did not help you enough to make you feel you'd want to stay, that he wasn't a good friend, which is not true at all but you know there is little you can do to convince him otherwise. In a moment of distressed induced vulnerability, with tears in your eyes you state something so cliche as that perhaps in another life you two may be able to have the friendship you both craved in this life, if only there is a case of reincarnation and you may be born in the same universe as him and live that life with no burdens or guilt of your existence.

To Ayato you are more cordial, less emotional or descriptive but you tell him that he was right on that day in the rain, that there is a deeper problem than you just being ‘introverted’, otherwise you keep it professional.

After the hardest two were done it was rather simple, it's not like you have any friends or family to write to and sending a letter to the street vendor you buy from doesnt make sense. You do write a letter and tell your boss that you simply will not be returning to work, you don't say why, and that you thank him for all the opportunities and help he has given you.

For once it was easy to fall asleep, for the first time in 2 years the moment you lay your head on your pillow you were unconscious. For once you've felt the release of the burden you feel and the comfort that will come when your plague on this world is done. You are so tired and finally you can rest.

The next day went on simply, it was a weekday and you went to work, in the afternoon you submitted your letters to the post and walked back home, taking in the scenery of Inazuma. This will be the last time you walk these streets. You wait at home quietly, have a decent meal and enjoy the sounds from outside of leaves and people. You felt in an odd state all the way through the day, like your senses were hypersensitive noticing the slightest thing around you which was lovely. You got to focus on the squirrles you passed on your way to work, the smell of baked bread smelled heavenly once again like it had the first day you were in the bakery, the pink and purple blossoms of the trees were so vibrant on your way home. You had given the shop vendor a smile and a wave as you passed her, that day you felt no burden, no grief. You only had one more step to take, the hard part was already over with.

In the late evening you stood by that beach again, the view was incredible. You sat down in the sand and got comfortable leaning against a rock and letting the tide touch the tips of your toes. You were naughty today, you bought enough substances from clinics or herb stands to be sure you felt good in your last moments. You took them quickly and then rested your head back against the rock, letting the sound of waves softly crashing, leaves rustling and the odd animal chirp lull your mind. It took some effort not to fall asleep just yet, you blinked your eyes harshly and woke yourself up a bit. This part was slightly uncomfortable, the beach you woke up on had a slight cliff, nothing you'd die by jumping off of, it was just a little steep incline but it was enough. You took a large rock from nearby and rolled it closer to the edge, tying a rope around and around your ankle. Drowning didn't seem like a peaceful death but at least like this your body can be washed into the sea where it can decay in peace without traumatising a random person strolling the beach. You relaxed and took out the large knife you had brought with you. Bleeding out decreases the time by knocking yourself out and not having enough energy to wake up in the water and struggle. You should be numb enough now. You closed your eyes and cut lengthwise, both arms, a leg… you tried your neck but even drugged up that was beyond doable. You didn't even register when you had stopped, you didn't see the blood flowing or feel the pain as it pooled, slowly your will died out as everything became hazed. It was a feeling, not a good or bad one, you couldn't even think. You felt the weight on your ankle tug, your consciousness dropping and allowing the gravity to pull you away. Black.

#yahooworks #genshin x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #genshin impact ayato #genshin thoma #yandere male #genshin x reader #yandere thoma x reader #yandere ayato x reader #yandere ayato #yandere thoma #genshin x female reader #genshin x male reader

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seresinsbabe · 1 year

Text

Conveniently Yours

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

Synopsis: In a desperate attempt to pay for your mom's cancer treatment you take a job as a dancer at one of NYC's prestigious strip clubs where you meet Jake Seresin who just happens to need a wife.

Warnings: Allusions to cancer and cancer treatment, alcohol consumption. This is another easy chapter

Word count: 2.6k

THIS BLOG AND ITS FICS ARE 18+! MINORS DNI!

A/N: I know I said I'd have this out yesterday but then tequila happened sooooo

I do not consent to having any of my work shared on any other platform. If you see any rendition of my works on another site know that it has been posted without my permission.

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Jake Seresin.

CEO Seresin Software

555.456.7788

You fiddled with the card in your hands. Reading the shiny black printed words over and over and then flipping it to the back.

Think about it. -J

555.345.6543

It had been a week since that night and you’d stared at that card what felt like a million times. What the fuck were you going to do? This wasn’t some simple passing opportunity. This would affect the entire trajectory of your life. This was an actual legal, binding marriage to a man you only knew through tabloids and media outlets. Which was another scary aspect to all of this. If you accepted this offer your entire life would be picked clean through by the media.

You didn’t have any dirty, life altering secrets, but that didn’t mean you wanted everything about you to be put on display for the whole world to see. And you knew that you wouldn’t be able to be a wife in hiding. The whole issue was Jake’s debauchery with women. He needed you to show your face and make it look like someone had finally tamed him.

It was laughable. The idea that someone as meek and mild as you could tame the likes of Jake Seresin. He’d been attracted to your stripper persona. Sapphire was a different person than you. Sapphire wore a blue wig, skimpy clothes and was confident in what she did. Hell, you were still developing Sapphire as a whole. Sure, maybe once he pulled that wig off you were no longer Sapphire, but you were still in the club. You were still working. Whether or not you were spilling your guts and laughing with him.

With a sigh you grabbed your old laptop and fired it up. The thing was on its final days, evidenced by the loud hum it constantly made and the way it got hot real fast. Still it worked well enough for you to search Jake. It was eerie how you were able to find basically his whole life story in a few searches.

He was born October 21,1989 in Austin, Texas. Where the family lived up until he was about fifteen. When the company really started to take off and his father moved the family out to New York. He went back to Texas for both his Undergrad and his masters.

“So he’s a Longhorns fan…” you mused silently. Remembering how your dad had been an Oklahoma Sooners fan. He hated the Longhorns with a passion.

Jake had three sisters, all of whom were as equally beautiful as Jake himself was. The family had some damn good genes. The two eldest ones looked a little…bitchy. The youngest one looked sweet. Her smile was genuine as she clung to the man you could only assume was her husband or fiancé. His mother didn’t look very agreeable, her smile was forced and you were certain if you went through with this she would hate you. His dad you couldn’t get a read on. Certainly if his mother hated you, his father would too.

From there the info was centered on his antics. Picture after picture of him with models and heiresses. Women that were of his caliber. Beautiful, rich, had probably never lifted a finger in their life or ever had to consider stripping for money. He was hardly ever spotted with the same woman more than a few times. If even more than once. Why hadn’t he just asked one of these women to be his wife? Surely they would jump at the bit, no questions asked.

You let out a defeated groan and collapsed back on your bed. Inside your head felt like a war zone between the side that wanted you to tell him yes and the side that wanted nothing to do with him.

The sound of your phone going off made you jump from your confused daze. It was probably Nat wanting to go get dinner or drinks or something. You didn’t answer, knowing she would just text you about it instead. Only instead of the familiar ding of a text alert your phone just started ringing again. You sat up, immediately worried that something was wrong. Which was only exacerbated when you noticed it wasn’t Natasha calling you.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice came through the speaker and your eyes shot open wide.

How did he get your number? “How did you get my number?” You knew why he was calling. He wanted to know if you had an answer.

“I have my ways.” God that sounded creepy. It was creepy, but he was rich. He probably had ways of getting anything he wanted. “So…have you decided?”

You swallowed hard.

“Not yet,” he let out a sigh on the other end of the receiver. “But I will have it for you tomorrow night.” Where that had come from you weren’t sure, but now that you’d said it you knew you’d have to follow through with it.

“Perfect, we’ll meet for dinner. I’ll send a car for you at 6:30.” Your stomach did a somersault. The way he spoke sounded so sure that you were going to say yes. Otherwise he wouldn’t need a dinner, just a call or a text.

Another call started coming through. This time it was Nat. “Nat is calling me, I have to go.”

“The one that got you the job at the club?” The fact he’d remembered that little tidbit took you by surprise. Then again he did seem incredibly smart, perhaps he just had a good memory.

“Uh yeah. Her. 6:30?” You asked. Natasha’s call had come and went.

“6:30. See you then.” And the line clicked silent. Your phone dinged with a text from Nat asking to meet for some drinks.

About an hour later you found yourself at some corner bar, sitting in a back booth with a gin and tonic recounting the story to Nat. You weren’t sure you should actually share it with her, but he hadn’t explicitly told you not to. Even if Natasha told someone they wouldn’t believe her.

You still weren’t entirely sure you believed this was all happening. Maybe you just ate some bad food and this was some food poisoning induced hallucination. You would come out of it as soon as you vomited and shit all the bad food out. Except you weren’t that capable of convincing yourself this wasn’t real. It was all too real and you didn’t know what to do about it.

“How did it feel sitting in his lap? Is he as hot in person as he is in pictures? Did you fuck him? Does he have a nice cock?” Nat hit you with a barrage of questions and the last one had you nearly choking on your drink.

“Christ Nat!” You managed once you finished your coughing fit.

She just shrugged at you innocently as if those were perfectly normal questions to ask about someone. “What? I’ve never actually seen him at the club. I know he’s been but he usually already has a private room booked before he arrives.” Of course he did. That didn’t surprise you. You were sure he had a few of the girls that were his favorites.

“Anyway…he’s even hotter and I wouldn’t know about little Seresin because I didn’t fuck him! That’s against the rules!” The dark haired beauty gave you a pointed look. The No Sex rule had never really stopped anyone before. Especially not when the customers were fronting as much money as they were. You followed the rule. It wasn’t that you didn’t fuck, but you definitely weren’t about to cross that line into what was basically prostitution.

Then again you were contemplating marrying some uber rich man to pay for your mom's chemo. So were you really any better?

“What should I do though? I mean this is a big fucking deal Nat!” You sunk back into the booth, wrapping your arms around yourself as you felt the anxiety of it all start to settle in.

Natasha’s features softened as she realized just how much you were needing her in that moment. “Okay I mean I’ll be honest, I don’t really see the downfall of the situation. He’s hot, he’s rich, it’s mutually beneficial. No feelings are involved and you’ll get a clean divorce? Maybe he’ll even give you a good amount in the divorce settlement to live off. Or maybe you can finally finish school while you’re married. Seriously, what’s holding you back?” Nat pushed her empty glass to the side, having finished her whiskey sour.

“I mean the fact that it’s an actual fucking marriage?”

“Is there anyone in your life that a marriage would jeopardize your chances with?”

“No.”

There wasn’t a single man in your life that you had any sort of romantic feelings for. When your mom got sick you had kind of pushed any focus on a relationship to the side to focus on her.

“Okay so it’s a legal marriage, but marriages between people who thought they were in love end in divorce all the time. At least you won’t have to experience heartbreak with this one.” That much was true. You couldn’t see yourself falling for Jake and you were sure he would continue his debauchery in secret. You were just the cover up. The one that would make him look good in front of the media and to his company. And there was no way you could fall for a man watching him act like that all the time.

You grabbed your gin and tonic, sucking down a decent amount of it. Your eyes stared so hard at the grain on the table you might as well have committed the pattern to memory.

“What about actually having to act like his wife? All the media and the pressure to make it believable?” You weren’t sure you could actually pull that aspect of the plan off.

“Just pretend it’s like the club. You have to act like everything those guys want when you’re on their lap.” This all seemed like too much. You were quickly becoming overwhelmed. Nat was making good points. “And…you likely won’t ever have to step foot in Birdie again. I know you hate working there. It’s not who you are, it’s what you had to become. It’s unorthodox, but it’s your best shot at getting out.” Fuck. She was right and you hated it.

If you didn’t agree to this you would be stuck working at Birdie for the foreseeable future.

Natasha watched your face as you went through the five stages of grief until finally landing on acceptance.

“Holy shit. My best friend is marrying Jake Seresin!” She said a little too loudly and you immediately had to shush her. Luckily no one was paying attention or at least it seemed like it. “Okay, it’s still early, we need to get you a dress to wear to this proposal dinner tomorrow.” Natasha was way more excited about this than you were and if it weren’t for her boyfriend, Bob, you’d try to convince Jake to ask Natasha to be his wife instead.

Your stomach was in your ass the next night as you waited for the car to arrive. It felt like time was passing so slow. The navy blue dress you had on was far more posh than anything you’d worn before. Much pricier as well. Nat had been the one to talk you into buying it. She said it made you look like the million bucks you were about to be worth. Though, you weren’t so sure about that, it did look good on you.

It had a sweetheart neckline that accentuated the natural swell of your breasts. It hugged your curves tastefully. And with the French twist you’d put your hair in, a few pieces left out to frame your face, the tasteful makeup and diamond jewelry you had to admit you looked expensive. The diamond necklace and earrings had been a gift from your parents when you graduated high school and wearing them seemed to help you feel a little better about this all.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you want to do this?” Your mothers sweet voice spoke from the doorway of your room. When you’d gotten home last night you’d broken down and told her what was going on. Not that you ever had the intent of not telling her, but you had wanted to wait until it was all set after your dinner with Jake. Ellen had been able to tell something was off and you cracked easily when it came to your mother.

Slipping your feet into a pair of nude heels you looked up at her. “Yes, mama,” you smiled weakly at her. “It’s not ideal but it’s better than working at Birdie.” Your mom let out a sigh. She couldn’t argue with that.

This was never something she’d envisioned for either of you, but especially not for her daughter. A knock came at the front door of your townhouse — they were here. “I’m doing this for both of us.” You gave her a kiss on the cheek before moving around her and towards the door.

A man in a nice suit with kind eyes stood at the door. “Miss Byers?” His voice was just as kind as his eyes. You nodded with a soft smile. “I’m Charlie, I’ll be your chauffeur to Mr. Seresin’s tonight.” He informed you as he led you out to the car.

It was a sleek car, all black with way tinted windows. On the inside it had all the bells and whistles. The exact kind of car you’d imagine a tech giant would own.

Charlie was sweet, keeping polite conversation the entire drive. He reminded you a lot of your father. Still you couldn’t shake the notion that you weren’t dining out at some ultra expensive restaurant. You were going to Jake’s place.

It took you a few moments but you finally brought it up. “You said you’re taking me to Mr. Seresin’s?” You phrased the question so that Charlie would understand it was in fact a question.

“Yes, Miss Byers. Mr. Seresin thought it best to have dinner at his place.” Your eyes went wide momentarily. Going to Jake’s place? That felt too intimate, then again maybe he didn’t want to be seen with you until he knew you were going to agree.

You watched all the buildings pass on the drive, trying your hardest not to pick at the fresh polish on your nails. A nervous habit you had picked up long ago. Keeping any sort of polish on your nails was nearly impossible unless you had gone to a salon. Whatever they used was nearly unmovable without acetone.

The knot that had started forming in your stomach only grew more when your eyes took in the massive building Charlie pulled into. It was all glass windows in the Lincoln Square part of Manhattan. You didn’t even want to know what the price tag of even one of the standard rentable apartments was in the building.

Charlie walked with you, leading you into the elevator. Your steady steps in the heels exuded a level of confidence that you didn’t actually have at the moment. He punched in a special code on the elevator panel and seconds later you felt it start to rise. Your fingers drummed nervously on your thigh as the elevator took you up. Floor after floor after floor. Of course he had to live on the highest floor. It was Jake Fucking Seresin.

Just as your anxiety over the whole situation started to peak and you were contemplating leaving the elevator dinged.

As the doors opened you were met with that same green gaze, the one that was about to make or break your future.

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